


Dancing Lessons

by lori (zakhad), zakhad



Series: Captain and Counselor, the revised versions [20]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-09 03:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18908986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zakhad/pseuds/lori, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zakhad/pseuds/zakhad
Summary: Where everyone learns to dance, again. The captain marries the counselor. All their friends come to witness it. Beverly meets someone new, and another member of the family finally comes home.I put a DNR on the original version - reworked from scratch. Most of my issues are with characterization, some things I thought "why did I write this?" and the rest just needed an overhaul. This rewrite is a replacement for two stories, Dancing Lessons and Elephant Tracks in the Wedding Cake.





	1. Chapter 1

Dr. Beverly Crusher left the salon and spent a moment contemplating her next move. 

"A wedding present," she said to herself out loud. 

What to get a couple like Jean-Luc Picard and Deanna Troi?

The starbase, like most of the major starbases hovering in the vast reaches of space within the Federation, had a substantial commercial section with goods and services to suit a broad spectrum of species. She walked down the broad main corridor glancing to and fro, from store front to store front, not liking her options. 

She paused to look in at a display of frivolous items -- the display just inside the door of the shop had ornate picture frames, something that previously she wouldn't have considered for Jean-Luc, but why would she ever believe he would get married, either? Then she thought about it further and went in the shop. She spent some time considering some of the other items, the random little things such stores tended to have, and decided in the end to delay. There would be after all other opportunities to pick up a gift on Casperia Prime. Leaving the store, she returned to the scattered flow of pedestrians making their way along the storefronts.

Taking the week of leave had been easy; the  _Valiant_ was heading out on a survey of a potential colony, nothing too demanding. Barregan hadn't given her a second of grief about going. Two of her crewmates had happily opted to take leave at the same time, so there were three of them in a runabout, making their way toward Casperia. The starbase was a stopover along the way. 

"Beverly?"

The familiar voice came at her out of the past -- she laughed as she whirled around and put up her arms, and gave Will Riker a hug. As she stood back she realized he was not alone. There was a woman in a uniform very much like hers, standing to one side. "Hello, Will! I'm surprised to see you, I thought you would have been there already."

"We had a couple of transfers to drop off, so Bell and I decided to get lunch. Christabel Sumners, this is Dr. Beverly Crusher." He held out a hand, and as she stepped forward the woman took it.

"Nice to meet you, Doctor. Are you going to the wedding?"

"Of course. My shuttle is supposed to leave in half an hour though, so I'm just doing a little shopping."

"If you want a lift, we have room for the shuttle," Will said. "We could take you the rest of the way, get you there a little earlier." He glanced at Bell as he spoke. She was a striking woman, tall as Will and blond. 

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea. We could spend some time catching up."

"Would you like to join us for lunch?" Bell asked. "We're thinking the Tandarish restaurant?"

They walked together toward the other end of the corridor, where most of the restaurants were. Beverly caught herself glancing at the two of them, wondering. "So should I plan to come to your wedding next?"

"Not an illogical question to ask, but no, not yet. I didn't think we'd be going to this one so soon, either," Will said, with more candor than anticipated. 

"It does seem a bit fast, considering, but...."

They passed the Klingon restaurant; the smell of burning meat and  _gagh_ nearly turned Beverly's stomach, so she was glad to pass it and immediately reach the Risan restaurant, which smelled of grilled vegetables and herbs.

"You make it sound so startling that they would get married," Bell said, drawing their attention -- Beverly walked on her right, Will on her left. "Why so surprised?"

"Oh, well," Beverly began, thinking about how to say something without saying too much. "There's the fact that I've known him since before he was a starship captain, and he's been overtly opposed to ever getting married since I've known him?"

"Also the fact that he can't stay in the same room with his future mother in law -- I can't imagine how that will play out," Will said. "Deanna's mother is a force of nature."

"Lwaxana was aboard recently," Beverly said. "On a diplomatic mission. Apparently she has a little boy now, a half-brother for Deanna?"

"She does?" Will chuckled and gave his head a shake. "Wow."

"Dee said her mother was upset about their engagement for a while. But somehow he talked Lwaxana around."

Will did a visible double-take -- but they'd reached the restaurant, and were soon seated at a large round table. The Tandar were notorious for the variety and the spicy nature of their food, so it took a while to review the menu and make choices, since it was served family style and they would be sharing. After the choices were made, drinks were brought, and they once again faced each other with polite smiles, Beverly expected the conversation would continue, and Will didn't disappoint.

"I wonder if they're going to have kids?"

Bell now sat back in her chair and gave him a look of disdain. "What if they do? Why sound so shocked about all of this? People change their minds, you know, and they have kids."

"When I came aboard the  _Enterprise_ , he instructed me to handle the civilians on his behalf. He wanted nothing to do with kids. It changed over time, that's true, but he's never been completely comfortable with the kids." He smirked, scratching his beard briefly. 

"I'm not sure Deanna would marry someone who didn't want children," Beverly said, putting one of her concerns into words. She knew her friends well enough to know it would be discussed before the vows were spoken, before the proposal was made. But she was like Will, having some difficulty conceptualizing it. It had been one of the first things she'd thought of, when she had been sitting in Jean-Luc's quarters and realizing Deanna had moved in with him. 

Not that it mattered. It wasn't their place to judge. 

Will agreed with her thought, held up his hands in surrender. "Their business, in the end."

Later, as she entered the quarters she'd been given on the  _Lexington_ , appreciating that she wouldn't have to spend another day in a shuttle with Lieutenant Mygoria and Lieutenant Riva, she dropped her duffel on the floor and sat down in the empty standard issue suite and contemplated how to fill the time between now and bedtime. The ship would be in orbit around Casperia in the morning.

The last time she had actually seen Jean-Luc and Deanna had been Galisi -- watching him suffer through the near-fatal injuries Deanna had slowly recovered from, watching the man she'd thought she knew so well so focused on Deanna that he'd spent the night in a chair in sickbay. She had known then that whether marriage happened or not, the two of them were now bonded in a way that she didn't quite understand. At several points she had nearly asked about children -- Deanna wanted them, but Jean-Luc had always been so uncomfortable with them. 

Just as she was about to shake off the trip down memory lane, get up to take a bath and have an early bedtime, the annunciator sounded. She wasn't surprised that Will came in. He sat in the chair, smiled at her, and it was easy to imagine they were back on the  _Enterprise_.

"So what do you think?" he asked.

"About Bell? She's too good for you," Beverly said with a grin. 

He laughed and leaned back, putting his arms on the chair and rolling his eyes. "Yeah. But worth it."

"I'll bet. I like her. Bet she's been good for you." Beverly put her feet up on the coffee table and crossed her arms across her stomach. "It's been a long time, it feels like -- it'll be nice to have everyone together again. Get a good poker game going again."

"I don't know."

She peered at him through her eyelashes. Deanna had mentioned the trouble she'd had with him, but she hadn't expected to hear it from Will. She thought it had been settled. "You don't?"

"Oh, you know it's always different, when two friends get together," he said. "He's changed."

Beverly snorted. "You too, Captain. And she has -- she's amazing. Just dives into a mission without a second thought, nearly dies, bounces up again."

His head came up -- she'd startled him. "When was this?"

"They didn't tell you about Galisi?" She frowned. "I guess it was that traumatic for him that he wouldn't bring it up just yet."

Will drifted off into deep thought. "I never saw it coming."

"What, you thought he would never marry?"

"I meant them. I could see him eventually coming around to deciding not to spend the rest of his life alone."

Beverly almost laughed at it, but she studied Will and thought that he was being a little too intense about it. She thought about saying something. Instead of questioning his attitude, she stared up at the ceiling instead. "They love each other. I don't think I've seen her this way before."

"What way is that?" He sounded curious, for the most part. Perhaps mildly perturbed, but that could easily be her imagination. 

"You know how it can be -- going head over heels and living in a sort of delusion for a while. I think they skipped that and went straight to happy. There's no question that they're solid."

Will heaved a great sigh. "Interesting way to describe it."

"You know Jean-Luc nearly as well as I do. Have you ever known him to waver at all once he's committed to something?"

"Deanna isn't a mission."

"No," Beverly said. "She's only the woman who knows literally everything about him. Including a lot of things he hasn't told anyone else. She's the one he decided to marry.  She's probably going to have his children. Do you imagine that he's going to change his mind, once all of that became true?"

"I didn't suggest otherwise. But if she changed her mind -- "

Beverly started to laugh. He watched her stand up. "You haven't spent any time with them at all. Just wait and see. I'm going to bed early, if you don't mind, but if you want we can have breakfast together before we beam down and meet the happy couple."

 


	2. Chapter 2

"It's beautiful," Beverly pronounced with a grin.

The transporter left them on a round pavement made of flat gray stones, and all around the perimeter were huge pots full of flowers. Will turned in a circle -- the coordinates had been specific and yet no indication of which of the six walkways would lead them to where they were supposed to go. The sky was a shade more purple than Earth's sky, and cloudless. The air was slightly chilly and smelled of roses, or at least some plant that resembled them.

"I've always heard good things about Casperia. I can see why." Bell grinned up at the clouds and the treetops all around. "Oh, this is so peaceful! What a perfect place for a wedding."

Will took another turn, looking for clues, and thought the distant laughter he heard might be a good one. "Let's try over here."

As the three of them walked under flowering trees down the shady lane, the laughter was supplanted by music, woodwinds and strings, and at the end of the long straight path they emerged into sunshine to find themselves on a smaller round pavement, in the middle of which stood a small ensemble. Data stopped playing and left the oboe on the music stand, stepping around it with a smile. "Captain! Dr. Crusher! And Lieutenant Sumners, it is good to see you again." He stopped, turned at the waist to address the musicians. "I will return after I have shown them to their accommodations. Please, carry on."

Data gestured, and so they walked with him around the ensemble to the next path. "The captain has reserved adequate space for all invited guests," he said. "We are practicing as we will be providing music for the reception. The wedding will be in two days."

"Are you organizing this event?" Will thought he sounded like a best man.

"No, I am merely attempting to be helpful. The captain and the counselor are making all the decisions, some of us are helping."

"Does she have a dress yet? Are we part of the wedding party?" Beverly asked.

"I believe they are still discussing the ceremony. Here we are." Data led them out of the trees and stopped -- the path started to turn to the left, but to the right stood a house, probably six bedrooms, Will estimated. All single story and painted green, with shining tinted windows all around. "You will find them inside. I should return to the practice, but I will be back in an hour. I believe there will be a social event once everyone is here, as Worf should be here by then."

"Thank you, Data." Beverly shifted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and watched the android retreating. "Worf," she echoed softly.

"I haven't seen him in a long time." Will noticed Bell's wide-eyed expression. "He left the  _Enterprise_ before I did -- transferred to Deep Space Nine."

"Should be an interesting wedding." Beverly shifted her bag on her shoulder again and marched for the house. Will put an arm around Bell and they went with her. 

The front door was open -- he followed them inside, as Beverly dropped her bag to the floor. To the left, one could step down into a huge living room with wood floors and a circular sofa; potted plants and chairs were sprinkled in the corners. A black table in the center appeared to be of a sort that projected holograms. Music played softly throughout the house. Will didn't see anyone, in the living room or in the dining area to the right.

"Hell-looo," Beverly sang out. She waited a few seconds. "Maybe they went out?"

"There's so much you can do on Casperia," Bell said. "Why wouldn't they? Maybe we should just find an empty room and leave our bags, and go do something?"

All three of them turned at the sound of footsteps. "Hey," Geordi exclaimed happily. Beverly went to give him a hug. 

"Geordi," Will said, grinning and dropping his bag to go shake hands. "Good to see you. This is Lieutenant Christabel Sumners. Bell, this is Geordi LaForge, the best engineer in the fleet."

"Hi," Bell said. She smiled and shook his hand. "Will's told me a lot about you."

"Sorry I wasn't at the poker game last time you were aboard. There's plenty of room for you, a lot of the other guests are in the other houses." Geordi gestured toward the hall behind him. 

"How many guests are we talking about?" Beverly asked.

"Well, mainly folks from the  _Enterprise_ \- Ward Carlisle and his family are in a smaller house, the Chings are in the other. Data and his dog have one all to themselves, no one wants to put up with the barking." Geordi went to one of the replicators and came back from the far end of the dining room with a cup of something. "I have the first room on the left. The captain and Deanna have the one at the far end of the hall on the right. At least til after the wedding, I think they're spending a couple of days at a different resort, after the reception. The rest of us can stay here and play for the remainder of leave."

"How are they?" Beverly said quietly.

Geordi tilted his head at that, and it made Will wonder what the question was really about. "This is gonna be a good wedding," Geordi said with a grin. "They're pretty happy to be here, and he's excited."

"We can all get drinks and you can tell us how it's going on the _Enterprise_ ," Will said with a grin.

They put their bags in rooms first, and Bell studied her appearance in the mirror over the dresser briefly, plucking at her hair, which she'd worn loose around her face. They were wearing civvies and the bright green shirt she wore suited her. She turned to watch him take off and hang up the jacket he'd worn over the white button-down. "I know you all think it's remarkable that they're getting married, but -- when you introduced me to them, they seemed like a perfectly happy and normal couple. Why all the tension about this?"

"It's hard to explain. So many things are, when it comes to the former senior staff of the  _Enterprise_. I wouldn't call them normal, either. Extraordinary -- if we spend much time with them you'll get to know him a little better."

Bell chuckled at his statement. "Okay. Let's go spend time with your other friends."

The others were seated along the circular sofa, spaced out and holding drinks. Will got a couple of Tarkalian teas and brought them back to Bell, who'd taken a spot next to Beverly. He sat next to her, handing her the glass, and settled with his arm along the top of the sofa behind her. Geordi appeared to be answering a question Beverly had asked. 

"It's just different," he said. "Data's doing a great job. I miss having him come down to work with me, but we're training up a good crop of new engineers. A little disruptive sometimes with cadets who won't be engineers coming through, though. Crosstraining little wannabe captains and security staff isn't what I'd call the best use of my time. Deanna's working on the problem."

"Jean-Luc said you were taking on more cadets than before? It's funny, I had the distinct impression he was annoyed by the reverent adulation some of them showed him," Beverly said. She had one leg drawn up beneath her, an elbow propped on the back of the sofa, and looked more relaxed than he was used to seeing her, in the soft blue pantsuit she wore and her shoes off. 

"Well, yeah, but there's this plan," Geordi said. "Saving Starfleet from itself, I think is the gist of it."

Will frowned at that. "What do you mean?"

"It's kind of obvious, right, that officers are retiring and there's this accelarated promotion schedule -- I keep losing people because they promote and leave. I get the feeling Starfleet is leaving the senior staff of the flagship alone for the most part, but they have a lot of new ships to staff." Geordi leaned back, legs crossed, holding his mug. "Honestly I didn't think I'd be around as long as I have. I figured the way things were going, as listless and sad as the captain was -- "

"What?" The word left his mouth like a bullet before he could catch himself. Will leaned to put his glass on the table, and resettled next to Bell, ignoring her concerned expression. "I mean -- I talked to him every day, until I left, and then I talked to him every so often, but even though I knew  he wasn't entirely happy I wouldn't have said listless."

Geordi seemed befuddled by the comment. He shrugged uncomfortably. "D'you think he would want anyone to really notice enough to comment on it? Anyway, these days he's a lot better -- it's been interesting since they got together. Morale's improved. He's started coming to play pool."

"Pool, as in billiards?" Beverly asked.

"No, pool -- we failed to get a poker game going. I think it reminded him too much of before you left. He's getting good at it."

A footstep on the wood floor behind them made heads turn -- Beverly sat up straighter, as Jean-Luc Picard strode into the center of the circular sofa. He didn't look like himself; he wore shorts, and a loose shirt that might have been a short robe. "Welcome," he exclaimed, holding out his arms, and Beverly leaped up to return the hug. Will stood up to greet him and received a firm handshake and shoulder grip. "I hope you all brought your swim suits. If you didn't I'm sure you can borrow Deanna's." 

Geordi laughed, and Beverly rolled her eyes. Bell looked confused, so Beverly explained. "She doesn't like wearing one at all."

"She's out napping in the sun, next to the pool. I came in for a glass of water." He sat down in the section of the couch to Beverly's left. "Thank you for coming. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"Wouldn't miss it," Will exclaimed. "So what about this last mission of yours?"

Jean-Luc immediately glanced at Geordi. He gave a sort of 'aw shucks you caught me' grin, and Jean-Luc harrumphed but the slight smile said he wasn't really that upset. "That would be the diplomatic effort with the Kertassalians."

There wasn't anything in his face to give Will any hints. "I haven't heard of the Kertassalians -- what are they like?"

"They don't talk."

"At all?" Bell asked. "I mean, no spoken language?"

"Yeah, they don't have mouths or eyes," Geordi said. "I was on the team. They needed help with the climate control network -- we had to figure out what was going wrong. But the only one who could communicate with them was Deanna. She helped us figure out how the satellites worked."

Will had always been impressed with Deanna's language skills, but this was new. "But she's not a telepath?"

"The Kertassalians are, however," Jean-Luc said. "And they ingest nutrition through a membrane on the thorax. It makes for a limited diet, mostly fluids they harvest from particular flowers cultivated in hydroponic facilities. But they can't hear anything. No ears."

"Deanna said they're polite people. But I guess it was difficult to deal with them. Something about their telepathy gave her headaches," Geordi said.

"But a successful mission nonetheless," Beverly said, her tone one of disapproval.

"The satellite network was repaired and the groundwork laid in place for a treaty," Jean-Luc said. "Their world is apparently not their home world -- they fled from some sort of conflict, thousands of years ago."

Will had read the brief summary in the fleet news about the mission but the details were a little startling. "This is a Beta Quadrant species?"

Jean-Luc gave him a look, and moved on, turning to Bell. "So what do you think of the venue? We're planning to have the ceremony outdoors."

The conversation became wedding-oriented, and Will took his glass to the replicator, putting it in to recycle it and obtaining a synthale. Geordi wasn't far behind him. 

"It sounds like Deanna had a rough time with that one," Will commented quietly as he watched his friend recycle the mug and ask for a Rigellian ale.

Geordi didn't quite frown. "He's not telling the whole story. I can't blame him. We're here to celebrate a wedding, and both of them are excited about that, so we should save it for later."

"But they'll tell us about it?"

Geordi looked down at the head on his beer. "Maybe. Give it some time."

"Level with me -- do you really think they can pull it off, being married and working together?"

Geordi glanced over his shoulder toward the living room, then looked him in the eye. "I think if anyone can it'll be them. Doesn't sound like you do, though."

"I have some doubts, but I think you're right." Will turned to rejoin the others on the sofa, Geordi following him back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of the Kertassalians will be written soon.


	3. Chapter 3

The pool was as amazing as the house. Beverly walked out the back door at the far end of the hall, wearing her blue tank suit and a light wrap over it, and found herself standing on pavement, this time a light shade of red, facing a long rectangular swimming pool. The water was deep, clear turquoise, and there was a fountain in the center -- not a huge splashing thing with jets, but a series of basins with water running from the top to the bottom, recirculating the water from the pool. There were lounge chairs scattered around it, a few tables in the corner nearest the house, and only one person was there -- Deanna lay on her stomach on one of the chairs near the fence. Trees leaned over the fence slightly, providing scattered shade. 

While she considered going back inside and leaving her friend to sleep, Deanna rolled over and sat up, and beckoned with a hand. So Beverly went over to greet her. Deanna was naked and didn't get up to hug her so she sat on the nearest lounge facing her and took the offered hand to grip it briefly in greeting. She let go and sat back again, glancing up and down -- not that there would be any real evidence of injury left after regenerators did their work, but she noticed that Deanna's hair was nearly back to its usual length, though if someone knew about her injury they might notice it was thinner on the right side of the head.

"How are you?" Beverly asked, sincerely concerned.

"I'm afraid I'm still recovering from the last mission. But I didn't want to reschedule this. Opportunities won't come along often to get everyone together this way." Deanna's smile was not her usual -- as though she didn't have the energy. "I'm glad you were able to come."

"Are you sure you really want to do this now? Everyone will understand if you wanted to wait until you're feeling better."

"It's important to him that you're all here, though. Important to me -- I know that some of our friends do not understand us, so I want you here, so you can see."

Beverly closed her mouth on her first reaction. Denial was pointless. One of the problems with Betazoid friends. "We don't need to see. We don't need to understand. All that matters to us is that you are happy, both of you, and it's clear to anyone who spends a few hours with you."

Deanna reached down behind her, picked up a wrap from the pavement next to her lounge, and stood up to drape herself with it. Her legs and arms showed more definition of musculature, and her curves were less rounded, her abdomen flat. She caught Beverly studying her, frowned a little as she tucked the wrap around herself.

"You're looking very fit these days. You've changed your regimen," Beverly commented.

"We run, every other day. I'm still teaching mok'bara. And I've been practicing two times a week -- I agreed to dance in one of those Betazoid festivals Mother keeps encouraging me to attend on behalf of the Fifth House, and it's been a long time so I have a lot of work to do before I can do it justice."

Beverly followed her toward the house. "But -- "

"I understand your shock. I always said I didn't care for the festivals. A lot is changing, though, and I have to change too."

"Dee," Beverly said softly, halting as they reached the back door. Before Deanna slid it open, she turned to look at her. "I keep wondering if there is more going on, that you aren't talking about, and it makes me worry about you."

Deanna hugged the wrap around herself as if guarding herself against the topic. "It isn't anything that everyone else isn't also worried about. Mother retired from the Diplomatic Corps to resume her position in Betazed's government. There are a lot of people at home talking about making changes -- fear is driving it. I've been asked to come home and help in the recovery from the invasion. I'm compromising by going home to make appearances now and then. I don't think there's a world in the Federation where things are the same -- the Dominion War woke us all up. And the changes in Starfleet aren't encouraging. I'm worried about all of us," Deanna said, looking her in the eye. "What about you? Haven't you considered moving on from Starfleet?"

"You know I have, but... sometimes I wish we could resort to time travel," she said wearily.

"I'm going to put on clothes. I've had enough of the pool for the day. Enjoy your swim," Deanna said. 

Beverly watched her go inside. She turned and looked at the water, and grimaced -- dropped her wrap on the edge of the pool on the way in, and did a few laps back and forth. The water was cool, and enough to take her mind off the conversation for a while. 

As she got out and bent to pick up the cover-up, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Birds, she realized. Flying overhead.  She was so unused to life planet-side that she could be startled by birds. She threw the wrap around herself, getting chilly in the breeze, and went inside. She stopped in her room to throw on a comfortable shirt and pants, stepped into sandals, and ran a brush through her hair before going back out to join the others.

They were all seated on the sofa, with the addition of Deanna sitting cross-legged next to Jean-Luc. Smiles all around, and everyone seemed calm enough. "So when do we get out the poker chips?" she asked, as she strolled around to one of the three gaps in the sofa. 

"Any time we like. There are also real alcoholic beverages to be had," Jean-Luc said, pointing in the general direction of the dining area. "Beer, wine, and some Romulan ale. One of the drawers is a refrigeration unit."

"And if not all of us want to play poker?" Bell asked.

"Some of us could call in resort staff and have facials and pedicures," Deanna said. 

"Oh, it's been so long since my last facial," Jean-Luc said, as deadpan as he could be. Deanna laughed at it, which was likely his goal, as he smiled at her amusement.

"Do they also have masseuses?" Bell asked. She leaned against Will, who had his arm around her. 

"It's a full service resort, so yes. Also hot springs, a sauna, and other amenities. Anything you want. The computer terminal in the dining room has presets to contact the staff you want to schedule with," Deanna said. "All compliments of the Fifth House. Mother may not care for the civil ceremony but she knows the more traditional service will have to wait."

"Then I think I'll get a massage, while the rest of you play cards," Bell said, standing up.

It led to a rearranging of the troops, and Beverly considered -- Deanna helped set up the game in the corner, Will replicated snacks and brought out bottles of beer for those who opted in, Data arrived and upon sizing up the situation put on his traditional dealer's costume, visor and armband -- but in the end she felt restless. Probably the conversation with Deanna earlier, she decided, making her think about things she'd tried to be too busy to pay attention to, and so she decided to go for a walk. Deanna gave her a PADD with a map on it and sat down with the others to watch Data shuffle.

The path was a wandering one, and she enjoyed the flowers and blue sky, and the lack of any other pedestrians. She saw that her location was displayed on the PADD and so didn't worry about finding her way back, just turned down whatever branch of the walk appealed to her. Ponds, birds, flowers, and in the distance the laughter of children -- which struck her as odd, until she remembered the mention of the Carlisle family. There were a few children here.

The last turn of the path she was on took her out of the trees, into an area where there were ball courts and other sport-related facilities -- it was marked on the map as such. No one was out and about, so she turned around and started back. As she walked through the trees she saw ahead of her a man, standing at the last intersection she'd passed, and wondered if it might be one of the  _Enterprise_ crew, or possibly a guest she didn't know yet. He was tall, easily the same height as Will Riker, and had short, thick blond hair, a blond-and-gray mustache and beard, and wore black pants and a long-sleeved shirt that initially appeared to be black, but she decided it must be navy blue. As she approached he watched her with a subdued smile.

"You're a friend of the bride, or the groom?" he asked as she came closer. 

"Both, actually. If you mean the couple I think you mean. Jean-Luc told me this side of the resort was reserved just for us, though, so it's a good chance you do. You?"

He held out a hand. She noticed, as she shook it, that his formerly-straight nose had been broken and healed with a slight misalignment. "Tom Glendenning. Captain of the  _Phoenix_. Both, as well. I was just scouting the rest of the facility. It's a pretty place, isn't it?"

"Dr. Beverly Crusher. It is very pretty -- I've never been here before." She kept walking, and he fell in step with her, thumbs tucked in his pockets. "How do you know them?"

"We worked together recently on a mission."

"The intelligence mission, I'd guess, since they didn't say anything about you." She glanced at him as they walked, noticing she wasn't the only one looking. How awkward -- much too long since she'd had anyone look at her with any interest. She'd never heard mention of him anywhere, either. "Have you been to Casperia before? This is the first time I've been, and since they're going off on their own after the ceremony I guess I'll have time to do some sightseeing. You have any recommendations?"

"I don't get lots of vacation time here, but I hear there's a pretty good buffet at the next resort over," he said with a lopsided grin. 

It wasn't even funny, but she smiled at it. "Well... I was thinking more waterfalls and beaches. But a really good buffet is hard to pass up."

"Like an epic buffet -- you walk in, and the long rows of dishes of steaming food from all the worlds of the Federation beckon. Endless pile of clean plates, so you can eat your way around the Alpha Quadrant. And the desserts -- you'll have to come back the next day to pick up where you left off."

"Something you have experience with?"

"Naw, I passed out after the second plate. My eyes are bigger'n my stomach," he said, chuckling. "I'm actually pretty simple. Whatever the replicator spits out is fine by me."

They reached an intersection and instead of heading back toward the house Beverly took another branch away from it. 

"Where are you from?" he asked. 

"I grew up on Caldos and left to go to medical school and the Academy." She sighed, thinking about Nana. 

"Any family left there? That was a sad sigh."

"Not any more," she admitted. "Where are you from, Tom?"

"A tiny town in Oregon. Still got sisters there. Almost as green and floral as it is here." He waved at the flowering tree branches they were walking under. 

"Sounds nice."

"I think about it sometimes, but going back is hard," he said. "After everything that happens out here."

Beverly slowed down, looking down at the neat symmetrical pavers in front of her toes. "Yes."

Glendenning didn't say anything, for a while. They reached the intersection where Data and his ensemble had been practicing; the practice was over, the music stands empty. 

"You heading back to the house?" 

She looked at him finally. "I suppose."

He had bright blue eyes, she realized, as they looked at each other. "You don't sound very happy."

"I am happy for them. It's hard to explain."

A flicker of a smile and then he was turning away. She kicked herself silently; the moment of candor was impossible to walk back. 

They strolled toward the house. The long tunnel of trees seemed endless.

"Sometimes the happiest people shed light on the holes in our own lives," he said at last. "I'd be a liar if I said I hadn't been there. And after the war, there are a lot more people who have holes than ever before."

Beverly stopped and turned to face him; he stopped a pace later, and waited. Thumbs in his pockets and looking relaxed, looking at her with a serious concern.

"How well do you know them?"

He shrugged. "Is there a way to measure that kind of thing?"

Good point, she thought. She started to walk again.

The front door was still open, and she came in -- Data, Jean-Luc, Will, Geordi and Deanna were at the poker table. Bell must still be with the masseuse. Deanna had her back to them, but turned her head and stared unsmiling at them. For a moment Beverly's heart stopped -- Dee did not look happy at all. But then she put her hand face down, rose from her chair, and came to them. She'd put on a very loose white dress, sleeveless and gathered up the front to a band around her throat, a style she'd worn before. 

"Hey," Glendenning said with a lazy smile.

Deanna smiled then, and it made Beverly doubt her interpretation of her friend's reaction. "Tom."

"What's up, hon?" He reached out, and Deanna stepped into the half-hug. It was a peculiar sort of greeting for her. Tom leaned down and kissed Deanna's forehead, patted her arm, and took a step back. "Fancy a little sparring before you turn into a bride?"

"I'm not sure I'm up to karate, at the moment. Maybe next time. Do you play poker?"

And so Tom was introduced to Will -- evidently Data and Geordi had already met him. Jean-Luc watched Tom sit down in the chair to his right, slapped Tom's shoulder, and dealt him in. Beverly opted to take a breather in her room.

She was sitting on the end of the lovely bed, all decked in warm covers in all the colors of a sunset, when Deanna came in. 

"It's my turn to ask if you're all right," Deanna said, sitting next to her.

Beverly wanted to deny, but ended up shaking her head. "Please don't think I'm having difficulty with your wedding," she said, trying not to cry. "I've just been so -- "

"I know," Deanna said, taking her hand. "I know."

It was easier to talk to Deanna -- she never pitied, she accepted things as they were. "I have something for you. I mean, if you want it. I guessed you might want to follow some of the traditional practices, marrying a traditionalist as you are." She turned at the waist, reaching back for the side pocket of the bag she'd left on the bed. "The saying goes, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. The bride wore something old to symbolize continuity, something new to symbolize optimism about the future, something borrowed to borrow happiness, and something blue to symbolize love, fidelity and purity. So I have the necklace I wore in my wedding, for you to borrow. And it has a blue sapphire so that's also something blue." She held out the case.

Deanna took it slowly, opened it and smiled. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

"I almost feel like I should apologize, for feeling as I do."

"It's all right, Beverly. I've never expected anyone to change the way they feel for me and I won't start now." Her smile changed, her eyes going sly. "What do you think of Tom?"

"What should I think? I don't know. I ran into him outside. Why?"

For a moment Deanna looked away. It was very concerning, but she turned back again so quickly that Beverly wondered if she hadn't just heard something. Her friend was smiling just as slyly as before. "Tom is complicated. But he saved our lives, and risked his own to do it."

"Then I'm glad to meet him, but I still don't know what to think."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not suggesting anything." Deanna stood and went to the door. "I'm going to put this in a safe place and go back to the game. Are you joining us?" 

"In a minute."

It took a while for her to calm herself, but when she went back out to be with the others she got herself a glass of wine and her smile was genuine, as she sat down between Tom and Deanna at the table. Tom gave her a look and a warm smile, and turned back to his hand. She noticed Will staring across the table and ignored it, looking around at everyone's chips, waiting to be dealt in and sipping Chardonnay. 


	4. Chapter 4

The poker game waxed and waned -- there was an extended break for dinner, and then another round had begun. Jean-Luc had stepped out at last and left the game to Will, Data, Geordi and Tom. Deanna could only put up with so much of the subtle verbal posturing between Will and Tom, and stepped out as well. They could tell each other stories without her.

Tom looked up at her as she rose from her chair. " _Tetya_?"

She smiled at the term of endearment -- at the puzzled look on Will's face. "I'll be back later. Have fun."

A stop at the replicator for water, to help her reduce the buzz of real alcohol; she'd only had a pint of beer, proving what a lightweight she was. She contemplated -- Jean-Luc had gone outside and Beverly must be with him. Talking about Jack, she guessed, from the way he felt. She went out the front door.

It was dusk, and the light of two of the four moons already illuminating the landscape. She walked barefoot, though the stone path was cold against the soles of her feet. Drinking her water as she wandered in the moonlight, she knew she was surrounded by friends. The resort had set aside this area for their party, and they could easily have invited two hundred guests. All the resort staff had gone home now, except for a couple in the office near the sauna. With only two dozen people in the area she could make out individuals easily, even ones she did not know well. 

So when Deanna came to an intersection in the cobbled path she knew it was Bell sitting on the bench at the side of the path ahead. She came around the corner and Bell watched her approach with a smile. "You had a good massage?" she asked, as she sat on the other half of the bench.

"Very good. Thank you." Bell gestured at the moons. "This is so nice, having time away. I've been sitting here enjoying the fact that it's not even cold, and the third moon is rising. And while it would be nice if Will were here with me, I know he doesn't get to see his friends often enough."

Deanna slid closer and took Bell's arm. "I know what it's like, feeling like an outsider. I'm sorry."

"I know it's not intentional, and I'm not going to make a big deal out of it -- we're not here for us, it's about your wedding."

Deanna wondered if Will had noticed Bell feeling awkward -- she thought he probably had. "Yes. But you're all here because we wanted to spend time with you, not just so you could watch us put on a show."

Bell was shocked by the statement, for some reason. 

"I would have stayed with him without a marriage contract. This is important to him, however."

Bell turned her head to look at her. "But you are also having a ceremony on Betazed?"

"The Fifth House is a relic of centuries gone by. The majority of Betazoids don't live by that tradition any more. My mother reluctantly participated because she felt obligated to carry on, and she encourages me to do the same. It's more important to me that Jean-Luc is happy, so if he didn't want to do that I wouldn't ask him to." Deanna smiled at the thought of the conversations they'd had, and the dismay and serious thought Jean-Luc had gone through considering whether to even start down that path.

"He wants to do it? Not you?" Bell's surprise was such that Deanna wondered what Will had told her.

"He wants his daughter to have the option of following Betazoid traditions, if she's so inclined."

"So  _sweet_. I wouldn't have guessed... Will made it sound like he was so set in his ways."

"He has been, but there have been times in his life when he made radical changes, when he went through a period of personal growth. Obviously any career officer who decides to have a family has to make changes."

Bell sighed, looking up at the third moon peeking over the treetops. "That story he told me, when I came to visit the  _Enterprise_ , did you know about that before?"

She had to mean Ressik. Jean-Luc had given a sparse summary of it, answered a few questions, not delved too deeply, but then he had never truly explained it to the others. "I did know about Ressik. It changed him. There were a few incidents over the years that were life-altering."

"What is the mark on the back of his neck? I saw it when he sat down to play poker."

Deanna smiled. "I have one too. It's the first step down a long path leading to marriage rites at the Fifth House. A tattoo at the base of the skull. We had it done very small, but still legible if you can read the old runes of the House."

Bell was feeling more unsettled, and fell silent for a time. Thinking about something. In the moonlight everything had a silver sheen. Deanna glanced at her -- she was a pretty woman, with a pert little nose and a squared chin. She turned away at the sound of voices, and Deanna looked up as well. Their time to talk was done. She decided that tomorrow, the ladies would go to the salon and have their hair and nails done, and have lunch while the men did whatever they wanted -- she thought Beverly would also appreciate it.

Jean-Luc and Will strolled into view, and Beverly was with them. Jean-Luc was tired, but alert; he smiled as he approached. He held out a hand to her, and Deanna stood up and took it automatically. "Is the party over already?"

"I thought the real party was tomorrow," he replied. They had one planned, for after the last few guests arrived -- the resort staff would cater it and there would be music and laughter. 

"Strange, I could have sworn you just asked me to dance."

Their friends were amused, but Jean-Luc responded to the ripples of emotion humming through the bond that came to life at the touch of his hand. She raised her other hand, and he raised his to take it -- in seconds they were waltzing along the pavement, in a slow circle  that ended with her leaning in, with him leaning in, and embracing. Hajira sang in her ears for a moment, eclipsing everything, and when they parted all four of their friends had vanished. 

"Oops," he murmured.

"I imagine you have noticed that some of our dear friends aren't quite ready to see you being a wonderful husband," she said with a grin.

"Hm. I am less concerned about them. Are you ready?"

"I have been for some time. Shall we adjourn to our room?"

He tucked his hand through her elbow and they strolled back toward the house. "It's been a difficult day, in some respects. I didn't know you invited Tom."

Deanna stopped walking. "What? I thought you did."

"Oh." Jean-Luc paused, concerned. "He invited himself, then. I'm not sure whether to be concerned or irritated, or both."

"Perhaps flattered?" Deanna considered mentioning that Tom had an interest in Beverly, but decided that it was best left alone, as she had always decided -- she doubted it would come to anything. Beverly had been reminded of her married life, and that on top of being lonely for the past year or so had led to some moments of pain. She was unlikely to return the interest.

"Data offered him a room. Apparently he doesn't mind dogs."

Deanna giggled at the thought of Tom trying to appease Toto the rambunctious young Scottish terrier. "I wonder if that will change."

"Do you object to having him here?"

"Not really. He seemed to get along well enough over poker."

Jean-Luc started to walk again, as did she, automatically moving with him toward their house. "Will isn't sure what to make of him."

Will's emotions were all over the place, as she'd predicted and decided to ignore utterly. "In the morning, I want to take the ladies to the salon. Give us some time together, to do the usual pampering and chatting. Get our nails done, get to know Bell better. After breakfast, and then come back after lunch. We'll eat at the restaurant."

"We'll see what comes of that -- perhaps Will has some idea of a bachelor party. Data was talking about it."

They walked into the house silently; no one was evident, so they went to their room and started to undress for bed. The rooms all had their own bathrooms. Deanna took off her makeup and did her usual routine, brushing her hair out and putting on a nightgown. By the time she joined Jean-Luc in the bed he was laying there watching her with the covers up to his chest. He'd turned out the light already but the moonlight streamed into the room through the wide window that looked out on the side yard.

"Still want to get married?" he muttered. Having fun with her -- he knew better.

"You can call it off. I won't go anywhere."

She slipped under the covers and came to rest against him, putting her hand flat on his chest and her cheek on his shoulder. His arm moved as she did, to help bring her over to his side.

"Cygne."

She thought she might not get any sleep; he was too excited. But he sighed, and fell asleep with her there against him. She slipped off his shoulder and rolled on her side, still within the curve of his arm, and fell asleep herself.


	5. Chapter 5

The ladies left after breakfast, and despite all the talk of activities they could do, the men went out to the pool. Data alone wore long pants and a shirt; the rest wore shorts and even Jean-Luc swam, one end of the pool to the other. The weather was forecasted to be slightly warmer, and it was. Today there were puffy little clouds; it would be gathering to provide rain to the north of the resort. One of the perks of weather-controlled planets.

Will brought out drinks from the replicator, with Tom's help. They put the glasses on the table under the broad umbrella, probably made of synthetic leaves -- the broad, pale green leaves looked too uniform to be actual plant matter. Jean-Luc climbed up out of the pool, water streaming from his body, and came to pick up a glass of water. He was as fit as ever. Perhaps more so.

"Getting in shape for the wedding on Betazed?" Will asked with a grin.

Jean-Luc shot him the irritated glance he expected as he pulled out a chair and sat down. "That wedding has not been scheduled. It also won't be nude. Traditional House weddings are not the same ceremony."

"I haven't heard much about the House traditions," Tom said. He'd arrived with Data for breakfast and spent half the meal teasing Deanna. It was plain that he had been working hard as well -- he wore black shorts, and had the muscle tone of a man who spent a lot of time in the gym. There were also some interesting scars, a few old ones across his back and a ripple of scar tissue down his left thigh. He glanced at Will with a faint smile.

"Betazoids don't talk about them much. And it's not really relevant." Jean-Luc turned his head to watch Data and Geordi heading into the house.

"So what's the schedule? Anything we can help you with?" Will refocused on the here and now -- his good friend had a wedding tomorrow, and there were probably things to be done.

Jean-Luc smiled at that. "Not at all. The resort staff are taking care of the arrangements for the facilities and the food, the ceremony is as simple as it can be. All that's left is the celebrating. There are cases of Picard wine waiting, and we brought our own musicians."

"Too bad we've had no notice, could have thrown a bachelor party to be remembered." Tom yanked out a chair and dropped into it, making it creak. He leaned and took a glass.

"Or perhaps that was intentional to prevent just that," Jean-Luc said with a canny smile.

"What, no Orion girls giving lap dances? No drunken revelry? No dancing on tables?"

"No."

Will chuckled. "We could do a Klingon bachelor party. Worf should be here any time."

Jean-Luc scolded him with a look. "No."

"What do Betazoids do for bachelor parties?" Tom sipped, waggled the glass a little and set it down on the table. He had a lazy smile that said he wanted to tease more than understand.

"Nothing, apparently." Jean-Luc glanced up again as Data and Geordi returned.

"I checked with the  _Enterprise_ , Worf is still four hours away," Geordi said. He and Data took the two empty chairs to Jean-Luc's right. "And they're starting to transport officers down for the party -- they're starting early since it'll take a while. deLio said he'll make sure there are enough crew aboard to maintain and monitor for emergency messages from Starfleet."

"You're letting the crew come down? All of them?" Will exclaimed.

"For the party, yes. The wedding and reception, no. They'll all get time off in shifts over the next week. Any word from any admirals?" Jean-Luc sipped his water. 

"I didn't ask, and deLio didn't say. If you want I can go get my commbadge and ask," Geordi said.

"No need," Tom said. "I brought the fleet admiral with me. She's staying elsewhere, doesn't want to mix with the rabble I guess, but she's here."

"She wasn't the only one we invited, but I suppose one admiral is more than enough." Jean-Luc sighed heavily. 

"They can't say you're sneaking around now, I guess." Tom shrugged comically. "If you gotta have an admiral at the wedding, might as well have one who's got clout."

Will glanced back and forth between the other two captains. "Have there been any repercussions? Any comments?"

"From Starfleet? Occasionally someone asks if I'm sane." Jean-Luc waved his hand as if shooing a fly. 

"I wonder if you have discussed a change of career objective with Deanna," Data said. He was as impassive as usual, sitting with his hands in his lap. "We have been working together to alter our cadet program. She shows a great deal of insight into what it will take to encourage and accelerate skill development for new officers. I believe she would excel as first officer."

"What?" Will disliked how startled he sounded. He settled down and tried not to frown. "I can see her doing well with crew relations and organizational tasks, but what about the battle tactics and some of the more technological issues that can crop up? She struggled with that in the past."

Data gazed at him implacably. "You may not have spoken to her about these things since you left the ship. My recent discussions with her do not support your supposition."

Jean-Luc chuckled quietly and glanced at the pool as if contemplating another swim.

"She did spend some time with the last batch of cadets in engineering, while I was giving them the orientation," Geordi said. "She actually answered some of their questions. It's obvious to me she's been doing some studying. So is she really working on changing her career path, Captain?"

Jean-Luc had the impassive expression he usually used to hide his feelings. "I haven't really discussed that with her. I imagine that if she is, she'll bring it up when she needs to."

An interesting approach, Will thought. He'd already had conversations about career issues and the impact of their relationship on those decisions with Bell, and she was sickbay staff. Some of his dubiousness must have shown in his face.

"Will?"

He smiled, despite the concern for Deanna. "Will there be dancing at the party? You seem to like it." The little show last night had been completely unexpected. Jean-Luc had never done more than a little awkward waltzing with the occasional admiral before. That he could be so caught up in Deanna's eyes while he moved like a pro had been a shock.

"Anyone who wants to can dance. Geordi's picking the music, though," Jean-Luc said, raising his water glass to the engineer.

Geordi seemed a little confused, but didn't question Will's assertion. "I have four hours of playlist, and we can always play it again. Maybe after a few glasses of wine Deanna will talk you into it? I know she likes dancing."

The engineer's gleeful teasing didn't even ruffle Jean-Luc. "Maybe," he said, with a smirk. "But only after everyone is so drunk they won't remember it."

"We could have Dr. Mengis at the ready to do memory wipes," Geordi said with a laugh. "That way even I would get up and dance."

"As I am bringing a holo-camera, I do not believe that tactic will succeed, Geordi," Data said.

"You know I'm kidding, Data," Geordi said. "If someone asks me to dance I'll do it."

"Whereas I intend to dance as little as possible," Jean-Luc said. 

"It's all right, I'll get up and dance my ass off," Tom said. "Draw everyone's attention away from you. If I find a good partner I'll dominate that dance floor like no one's business." He smiled with great satisfaction and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head.

"Dr. Crusher is a good dancer," Data said helpfully. "She assisted me in learning to dance for Chief O'Brien's wedding."

"Really?" Tom sat up again. "You mean she's a trained dancer?"

"She is," Data said. "In fact, she won a prize in a jazz dance competition in -- "

"Data," Jean-Luc said, in that patient tone of warning. 

Data cocked his head. "You are correct, sir. I remember now that Dr. Crusher was reticent to reveal to others that she is a dancer. Captain Glendenning, I apologize -- please do not reveal to her that I failed to respect her wishes. I will explain the breach to her and apologize at the earliest opportunity."

Tom watched the android with an incredulous, amused grin. "Okay. No sweat, Data."

"Where'd you get all the scars?" Will asked. It was curious, why he'd still have them. The wounds would have to have been left unattended to for a long time for them to be beyond regeneration.

"That's a story I can actually tell," Tom said unexpectedly. "I was in deep cover on Cardassia Prime during the war. There was this drunk Cardassian -- they'll want us to believe each and every one of them is smarter than we are and twice as cunning, this guy must have been a throwback to Cro Magnon Cardassia, dumb as a rock. Anyway -- he got mad at me for existing, wandered over to the corner of the bar where I was sitting, picked me up, threw me through a window into the street. Almost ruined my cover. Broke my nose, cut me up all down my back and shoulder. I found a nice lady who didn't question, just pulled out all the shards and bandaged me up. Then I was there for another three months. Got back and figured I had no real reason to spend all the time in sickbay since it was all healed by then."

Will almost rolled his eyes. The man clearly wanted to show off and have a story to impress people with. 

"I'm going in to get something other than water to drink," Jean-Luc said. "Will, can I have a word?"

Geordi and Tom followed them with their eyes as they headed for the house. Once inside, down the hall, and in the dining room, Jean-Luc asked the replicator for an Earl Grey, hot, and leaned against the wall as he held up the steaming mug. 

"I'm having some difficulty with determining what it is that's bothering you," he said point blank. "So I wanted to ask, in advance of the actual wedding, if there's a reason you're so tense and quick to anger. Last night you seemed to have some similar moments during poker."

Will huffed and looked down at his bare feet for a minute. "I'm sorry. I'm just... having some difficulties wrapping my head around some of the changes. And I still miss being aboard the  _Enterprise_ so it's all the more difficult to see you, and her, being so different. The wedding isn't a problem, but -- " He lost the words to articulate his reaction to seeing Deanna fairly glowing at Jean-Luc, as the two of them danced around in the moonlight, moving confidently in his arms and very obviously at home there. And the experience, seeing his former commanding officer -- who had avoided Admiralty Balls to the point of almost encouraging the crew to manufacture problems and delay repairs -- being so in love with Deanna that he danced with her without hesitation, so caught up in her he ignored the audience, it was harder than he'd expected it to be.

Jean-Luc sipped his tea, and gazed at him with the implacable Picard calm. 

"I'm sorry," Will said again. "I'll do better. But Glendenning is annoying."

Jean-Luc smiled at that. "How we react to irritating people doesn't have anything to do with them. It has to do with us. It also helps to not take him seriously."

"I wondered how you were able to put up with Lwaxana all this time," Will said. 

Jean-Luc took his tea and left the dining area, walking silently down the hall and out into the yard. 

Will grimaced, almost swearing at himself. "Computer, one Tarkalian tea," he snapped. It angered him, but Jean-Luc was right. This was obviously something he needed to work on.


	6. Chapter 6

"So when are you going to demonstrate this dance you are learning for the Festival?" Beverly asked.

Deanna was shiny and happy this morning, wearing a style of dress that Beverly had never seen on her before -- cream-colored muslin wasn't her usual, nor was the blousy loose fit. The full skirt, the gathers -- it was a plain and billowy sort of dress that Deanna Troi had never worn before. Bell had commented on it immediately but Dee hadn't been forthcoming. She laughed at Beverly's suggestion as she walked down the paved path on their way back to the house. 

"I would love to learn some of the steps," Bell said. "I like to think I'm a good dancer." She swayed a little. The deep pink dress she wore worked for her; Beverly tended to avoid pinks, but Bell's complexion was perfect for it.

"Oh," Deanna said with a wave of her hands reminiscent of her mother's demeanor. "It's not really that kind of -- it's very... athletic. And I can't really dance that way by myself."

"So how do you practice?" Beverly asked. Jean-Luc had mentioned that she'd been practicing often. 

"In a holodeck with dozens of holographic dancers," she replied. "Festivals are a very social activity on Betazed."

"There's a holodeck here at the resort," Bell exclaimed, pointing in the general direction of it. She appeared to be in a much more outgoing and happy mood today; Beverly had watched her open up through their time at the salon, chatting while their nails were done about all kinds of things that had nothing to do with the men. At lunch they had had some of the Casperian fruit-filled alcoholic drinks with their food, and judging from the loose swinging way they were walking and the slight sway in Bell's posture the buzz was still there.

"Oh... I don't know if there's time. The party starts later today. I wanted to take a nap. I'm still recovering you know?" Deanna hadn't said much about the mission or how tired she was, but Beverly had noticed when she'd caught her friend in an unguarded moment here and there. That Deanna was now wanting a nap might be concerning, if it weren't more obvious that she simply wanted to avoid dancing.

They walked past the small houses where the Carlisles and the Chings were housed, and Deanna greeted the kids playing outside in the yard by name. There was a little girl there, Lindy, who ran over to hug Deanna. It involved Deanna kneeling in the grass.

"I have my basket," she cried excitedly. "I'm all ready!"

"Good, I'm sure you will be the best flower girl in the quadrant," Deanna said, getting up off her knees again. She brushed grass off the front of the skirt, but a green stain remained. "Are you coming to the party later?"

"Mom says I get to dance," Lindy cried, leaping around excitedly. "Everyone gets to dance!" 

"Keep practicing," Deanna said. "I'll see you later."

"See you at the party," Kenny shouted. He slapped the older girl's shoulder - Sarah Carlisle shrieked and chased him away, and Lindy squealed and went after them.

"Isn't that the little girl who keeps stalking Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked, as they walked away from the house. The paved path took them down a hill, curving around it.

"Lindy is his biggest fan," Deanna said. One of her heels slipped between a couple of pavers. She reached down to remove one shoe then the other, and walked on barefoot. 

Beverly chuckled as she followed her friend down the walk. "You mean  _you_ aren't his biggest fan?"

"I suppose you could say that, but I think marriage is an entirely different sort of relationship."

"I intend to dance with just as much joy as Lindy," Bell said. "Even if I have to find a different partner to do it with."

Deanna stopped walking. They were at the next intersection of paths, in a paved round with four options. The sounds of childish laughter was more distant but the house was far enough away now and behind the hill that they had no observers. The serious expression Deanna had seemed to have an effect on Bell, who appeared to be more inebriated than either of them.

"I'm sorry," Bell exclaimed, her face crumpling into distress as tears started. "I just -- "

"Bell," Beverly said softly, not wanting to make assumptions but thinking she knew what it was about. Will had been good, hadn't said anything out of line, but she was sure that she was not the only one noticing his broodiness and the way he kept looking at Deanna. It made her wonder what was going on at the house between the guys while they were having fun.

"I understand," Deanna said, weariness in her face. "Weddings tend to bring out the best and the worst in people. And Will misses the way it used to be, when we were all together on the  _Enterprise._ I think he may miss it more than any of the rest of us, in fact. Moving on was difficult for me as well."

Bell's laugh was brittle. "I think he still has feelings for you. I think I was stupid to stay with him, after we came to see you and Jean-Luc, and I realized that. I'm the rebound."

Deanna met Beverly's eyes with an intense look. But she tried to smile at Bell, and held her shoes in her right hand while reaching out to touch Bell's arm with her left. "I know that he loves you, whatever nostalgia and angst he's going through at the moment."

"Nostalgia? For what you used to have together?" Bell rubbed her cheek with her fingertips miserably.

"If it's for that, it's nostalgia indeed. He canceled our wedding when he was a lieutenant stationed on Betazed. Left me for a promotion and didn't think about just rescheduling the wedding we had arranged on Risa," Deanna said, with resigned tone. "Years later, I was his friend when we were on the  _Enterprise._ People thought we were more than friends, and I sometimes imagined that might be possible, and I'm sure that he did too. So it didn't surprise me that he was very hurt when I rejected him after his promotion. I can even understand that he would go through some regrets and relive some of the feelings of rejection, at my wedding. But he told me to ignore those feelings, because he wants to work through it, and I'll do that. I wish I could help you with him, but all I can do at the moment is tell you that I consider you a friend as well, and regardless of whether you stay with him, you're welcome to stay and dance with us at the wedding. We can give you a different room. Or send him over to stay with Tom and Data, and the dog."

Bell laughed again and they ended up hugging. "I'm so sorry, I don't want to ruin your wedding."

"You can't. I won't let you." Deanna held her at arm's length by the shoulder and shook her gently. "If you stay and enjoy my wedding, I will get Jean-Luc to dance with me."

Now Beverly laughed with them, appreciating the way Deanna was helping Bell through this. "I think I'll enjoy that as much as she will," she said. "He's the most reluctant dancer in the galaxy."

They started off again, with Deanna between them, walking slowly toward the house. Bell started to shake her head when it came into view as they left the trees. Beverly stopped with them, as Deanna put her arm across Bell's shoulders. 

"Send him out here," Bell said quietly. "I don't want to go in there and act like everything's normal."

Beverly and Deanna exchanged a look. "If you need us we're a shout away," Deanna said. "I'll go tell him you're waiting."

They left her there under one of the trees, and Beverly started to frown. "He's fucking up."

"He is the stupidest intelligent man I've had to deal with in a long time," Deanna said diffidently. "The problem seems to be a recent development, but I wonder. Sometimes when you focus on career to the exclusion of personal development, you have uneven development like this." 

"You sound so clinical about him these days." Beverly could think of other officers that applied to, who had made wonderful progress. 

"Perhaps I've moved beyond a time when I tell myself I need to make peace with him for the sake of the ship," Deanna said. That startled Beverly into silence. 

They found the men outside, around the table beneath an umbrella next to the pool. Tom was standing up, playing a guitar -- he wore black shorts and Beverly saw immediately that he had old, faded scars on his back. He turned in place, still strumming, and smiled at the sight of them. The others were sitting around a table littered with empty glasses and a half-eaten plate of some sort of finger food.

Will was in lazy lounging mode, leaning back in the chair and watching them approach with a slight smile. "Bell must have enjoyed it so much she stayed?"

Deanna stopped walking several paces from the table and put her hands on her hips. "What a mess. Could you all help clean that up? Except for Will, I'd like to talk to him."

It led to the fastest cleanup job Beverly had ever seen -- Data, Geordi and Tom went into motion, grabbed up glasses. Jean-Luc had four of them in one hand plus the platter in the other, and all of them hustled off for the house. Not a word was spoken. Will sat up, looking a little stunned. Deanna glanced at Beverly but said nothing, taking another step toward her prey. Beverly stayed, crossing her arms. 

"Bell is waiting out front to talk to you, before she comes in," Deanna said calmly. "But before you go, I wanted to ask. Why aren't you taking this opportunity to take your girlfriend to a romantic wedding and have fun with her?"

That led to the wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare that Will Riker had never had before. He stared for a long moment at Deanna. 

"Go talk to Bell and apologize to her for your sins. She loves you. She thinks you still love me. I can't explain anything to her, because you would accuse me of interfering, and you would be right."

"And what are you doing, right now?" he snapped.

"Kicking your ass. Get used to it, if you keep being one. Or you could go back to being our friend, and have fun at our wedding."

Will leaped up, knocking the chair backward to clatter on the pavement. Beverly almost fled; he looked stormy. But he strode off, heading for the door, going inside. 

"Have you always dealt with him that way? That was a serious blow to the ego," Beverly said after a moment. 

"No. But I wanted to at times. At this point I think he needs to hate me a little."

That was another stunner. Beverly stared at Deanna as if she'd just turned out to be some changeling, wondering what she could possibly say to that.

Jean-Luc came back outside. Like the others, he wore swimming trunks, a thigh-length pair in command red. "What did you tell him?" 

"Nothing he didn't need to hear. Hello, sweet fish," Deanna said, reaching up as he completed his approach to put her arms around his neck. The stress of dealing with Will left her face the minute their eyes met. For a few seconds it was like the other night when they'd been dancing, both of them lost in the other's eyes.  Then they stepped apart and he leaned in to kiss her cheek. 

"Fish," Beverly echoed. It was the first time she'd heard that nickname, and it struck her as very odd. 

Jean-Luc gave her the smirk that dared her to ask again. "Is he staying for the wedding?" He looked at Deanna again, his hand quite casually resting on her hip. 

"He's going to talk to Bell, who has been feeling like an outsider, and then like she's being asked to enjoy the wedding of someone her lover is still in love with. It doesn't matter that he isn't in love with me, the broodiness and frustration plays out as if he is. And yes, this is me being an asshole, reporting on this openly," she said as he opened his mouth. "I am wanting my friends to join me in happiness that we're getting married. And he can't stop feeling as he is, but I know he is capable of better behavior -- he's done better. He did better when I was supposed to marry Wyatt. He did better when I was with Worf. At this point I am no longer caring about hiding my feelings about the fact that he can't keep himself in check long enough to be decent to Bell."

"He isn't... Why is he so upset, then? What's all this drama really about?" Beverly turned for the door with them. 

"Did you have a good morning?" Deanna asked Jean-Luc. "How was he, while we were gone?"

"Oh... I suspect leaving him unsupervised with Tom might be unwise. He was quieter than I expected, and when I confronted him he said he was having difficulties with some of the changes." Jean-Luc slid open the door as they reached it. 

Beverly stepped up behind Deanna, following them indoors. She slid the door shut behind her. 

"I'm going to change," Deanna said. "I should wear something else."

"Yes, this is a little distracting." Jean-Luc touched her shoulder, running a finger down the fabric.

Beverly was stunned at the casual admission. She stared at them, standing in the narrow hallway. Deanna turned back slightly, to look at her. "Beverly?"

"I'm just a little curious about the changes myself," she replied. "Not upset, or alarmed in any way. Just surprised. Neither of you has been this openly -- um. Affectionate. Before." 

"We're neglecting our other guests," Jean-Luc said, moving away down the hall toward the living room. Guitar music had started, accompanied by Data's clarinet. 

Deanna smiled sadly. "Come talk to me." She turned and went into her bedroom. Beverly followed her in, and sat on the end of the bed to watch her rifle through the closet. Their bedroom was bigger, with a large window and a skylight. The bed had deep blue covers, with gold edging. Deanna selected a pale green pantsuit, holding it up as she turned from the closet.

"I'm just not used to the affectionate version of him," Beverly said, feeling ridiculous. 

"I know," she said, folding the pantsuit over her arm and coming to sit next to Beverly on the end of the bed. "And the only reason he's that demonstrative is that we are all friends, and he wants to relax while spending time with his friends, which means he will be somewhat affectionate to me in your presence. We knew there would be an adjustment period. We just didn't realize Will would have a meltdown as a result."

 _Somewhat_ affectionate. Beverly started to laugh. "I can't wait for this wedding," she said. Then something else occurred to her. "Do you have the dress? Can I see it?"

"I actually have three. I'm still debating whether to be sentimental or regal, or completely traditionally Terran bridal."

Beverly clapped her hands. "Come on then, let's decide! Try them on! Or should we wait for Bell?"

Deanna sighed and put the pantsuit on the bed behind her. "All right. I can sense they're done talking and it feels like some resolution happened, so she should be coming back in now. Come on."

Beverly followed Deanna out and was there to see Bell come in the front door with Will not far behind. Tom stopped strumming the guitar, and everyone seated around the sofa was looking up at her. "There you are," Deanna exclaimed as Bell met her eyes. "I need your help. I'd like some feedback. Everything okay?"

"It's better," Bell said. "What are you needing feedback on?'

"I have three potential wedding dresses and I can only wear one. So I need opinions."

Beverly was looking around as she spoke, and noticed Jean-Luc flinch a little as he sipped tea. A sore point?

She went with the other two women back to the bedroom, where Deanna once again rummaged in the end of the closet. Bell joined Beverly on the end of the bed. "This is exciting."

"What happened with Will? Are you all right?" Beverly asked. 

Bell's blue eyes were a little bloodshot and red-rimmed, her cheeks were flushed, but her smile was genuine. "I think we reached an understanding. It's not completely resolved, but it'll be okay."

Deanna hung the three dresses on the front of the sliding door and turned to them. "What do you think?"

They were definitely different. One white with a full skirt and train, with _fleur d'lis,_ in seed pearls and lace. One very much like the dress she had on, a billowing thing with gathers and a skirt nearly down to the ankles. One gown that had no train, a high neckline and no sleeves, white and relatively unadorned; a single flower had been outlined in tiny glittering gems on the right shoulder.

"I think you need to put them on," Bell said slyly. "So we can see you in each of them."

"Which one do you favor?" Beverly asked. "Because that's really what should determine what you wear."

Deanna rolled her eyes and turned to study the three again. "He wants me to wear one of them, but I like a different one. I've been trying to decide if I want to satisfy sentimentality or wear the gown I like. So which do you think?"

"I think he wants you to wear the middle one -- the one like the dress you have on? Just a hunch," Beverly said. 

Deanna glanced over her shoulder at her. "I suppose it's that easy. I don't usually wear dresses like this one."

"So why does he want you to wear it?" Bell asked.

Sighing, the bride pulled the grass-stained dress over her head and let it fall to the floor. She wore a strapless bra and a bikini bottom, and reached up for the one in the middle. "There's a story. But you have to promise not to repeat it."

"Oh, I can promise that," Bell said.

Deanna flung the dress up over her head. It needed a lot of adjusting, and Deanna tugged it around and pushed the sleeves off her shoulders to expose them. "I believe you know that I'm an empath."

"Yes, I remember." Bell leaned a little, scrutinizing the dress as Deanna turned. "It isn't bad. It's just not your typical wedding gown."

Deanna turned around and looked down at the front of it, holding out the skirt. "This is a dress that I replicated in a fit of insanity."

"What are you talking about?" Beverly asked, scowling. 

"I thought he would never talk to me about he felt. I knew how he felt. I thought he would say something." Deanna actually started to pace a little, as if the memory was unsettling. "But he didn't, for a long time."

"So... you said something to him?" Bell said hesitantly.

"I didn't. I started to look for other postings, jobs on Betazed, anything off the ship. I hated that it was because I'd fallen in love with him. I hated that I had to leave, because I couldn't stop feeling that way, and I knew he felt it too, and he wouldn't say anything." Deanna joined them, sitting on the corner of the bed next to Beverly, leaning forward slightly and turning toward them as she spoke. "There were a few times that I went to his quarters and stood outside the door but I kept leaving without asking for entry. I kept doing what I would have told any client not to do, but -- it was Captain Picard. How could I walk in and tell him, when I sensed his feelings and he wasn't telling me? Especially when -- " 

The sudden cessation of her retelling of the story had to be because he'd told her about Beverly's reason for leaving the  _Enterprise,_ and Beverly flushed a little thinking about it, but said, "And?"

"I decided to make one last go at it, and searched for an outfit that might appeal to him, something as far from the uniform as I could get so it was clear that I wasn't approaching him as an officer at all. But I ended up leaving his door again and sitting in the lounge staring into a cup of hot chocolate, feeling defeated. That was when he showed up." Deanna had a warm little smile that said pleasant memories. "Later, after the mission at Zibyan, and some discussion of the matter of our feelings, we simply moved in together. I moved in with him, slowly, because it was easier than trying to -- we tried to keep it low key, not hide it from people but private. Because it made sense to -- there really wasn't anywhere other than the lounge to go. Holodecks... but there's a schedule for those, and they aren't available to us any time we like. We ran into Will at the war game and spent a couple of days on the starbase, out of uniform, and that was nice. It's easier when we're off the ship for him to relax and not be the captain half the time."

"Hence the resort, for the wedding," Bell said. "I'll bet he's incredible in bed."

That was girl talk -- Beverly remembered girl talk, long ago and far away, before she'd been in the habit of rebuilding people in sickbay, treating radiation burns and disruptor wounds, spending long hours on duty and in research because she was in a confined space with all the people she had to be professional with, nowhere else to go. And in this context, talking about Captain Picard, it brought her up against the wall of disbelief that anyone would go there. Likely because she had at one time had fantasies, brief and ridiculous ideas....

"Come on, look at the blush," Bell chided, giggling. It brought Deanna's blush to her attention. "He's all business on the bridge -- I know the type well, it's Will too."

"So you were wearing this dress when you 'met,' in the lounge, and started talking about each other," Beverly said, smiling at the thought of Jean-Luc being that sentimental. "I'll bet it never leaves your quarters any more -- it probably puts that look on his face, seeing you in it. So why wouldn't you wear it as you walk down the aisle on your wedding day?"

"A good point," Deanna said. "Maybe... a trial run." She stood up, fluffing out the skirt. 

"Tradition says he's not supposed to see you in the gown before the wedding," Bell pointed out. She was looking back and forth between them, still sorting out what was going on, anxious.

"We aren't following every single little tradition, and it isn't as though he hasn't already seen me in it." She went to the door in the corner and disappeared for a brief time, and returned with her hair up in a messy knot on her head, curls hanging loose all around. Above the neckline of the dress hung Beverly's sapphire pendant, with another little object dangling next to it. 

Beverly came to see what it was, and smiled. "Is that a swan?"

"He gave it to me. It matches the ring." She took off the engagement ring and held it up. 

"You definitely have a theme going. I almost understand why he calls you a swan, but I'm still trying to figure out the fish." Beverly could barely see the tiny swans engraved on the ring. Deanna put it back on. 

"If a bird and a fish fall in love, where do they live?"

The question took a little thought. Beverly noticed Bell's stricken expression before she responded; it gave her pause. Deanna's expression was less amused likely because she sensed whatever Bell was going through. Beverly said, "I think I've heard that one. But something tells me your context is a little different than the original proverb."

"It is, because of course both of us are in Starfleet. But he has for the majority of his life focused on the professional to the exclusion of the personal, and even my professional side focuses on those aspects of personal life that he tended to want to ignore." Deanna pressed her lips together in a way that Beverly always thought meant she was not being entirely open about her thoughts. She smiled again, and the hint of wicked suggested the content of her thoughts had taken a sudden turn. "He is of course quite amenable to adapting, once he decides that he wants to do so."

"I'll bet he adapts really well to certain things," Beverly said with an equally-wicked grin.

"Mm, yes. Let's go see what's going on, I think Worf is here."

Deanna led the way out and Beverly was right behind her. As the door opened they could tell the music had stopped, and voices of the men greeting Worf carried down the hall. As Deanna came out into view the first one they saw was Tom, standing near the front door with his guitar slung over his shoulder; he saw them at once, grinned, and started to play again -- loud broad strums of the wedding march.

It silenced all conversation, and as Beverly came out she saw everyone standing together looking at Deanna -- the facial expression told several stories. Geordi and Data were smiling happily. Will had a stunned look that Beverly hoped would be gone by the time Bell cleared the hall. Worf was wide-eyed and startled, but not in a manner that suggest he was upset. Jean-Luc -- holy hells, when had he ever smiled that way before? Tom stopped playing as Deanna halted and gave a little curtsy.

"Is that it, then?" Jean-Luc exclaimed. He clearly approved.

Deanna shot a look at Beverly. "It depends on why one wears a wedding dress. I think it might have accomplished the objective. So I'll have to go put on a different dress for the party, which is supposed to be starting soon. Tom, I didn't know you were such an accomplished musician. Why don't you and Data play guitar at the party for us?"

"You play guitar, Data?" Tom asked. 

"I play many instruments, Captain." Data stepped around Will and approached Deanna. "You look beautiful, Deanna. I am curious why you are not being careful about the groom viewing the dress before the ceremony."

"Not all traditions are to my liking," she replied succinctly. "Welcome to the party, Worf. May I have a hug?"

Worf inhaled, nostrils flaring, and graced them with a smile -- a rarity, suggesting that he was very happy to see her. He held up his arms and Deanna stepped down into the living room proper to go step into them, attempting to reciprocate. He was larger in diameter than usual, wearing ceremonial armor and the trappings of the Klingon ambassador. She started to laugh as she stepped away and found she had to pull her dress off some of the points on the armor. 

"Perhaps surgery would be more effective," Worf rumbled, in an odd turn of humor. "Is your mother here?"

Another grin from Deanna at that. "No. She's on Betazed at the moment -- promising her a second ceremony there was enough to appease her. She was interested in coming to Casperia but fortunately she was responsive to some mild coercion."

"Blackmail," Jean-Luc amended. "I'm going to change as well. We should be going soon, it's quite a walk to the facility from here."

Beverly exchanged a look with Bell, who'd been watching the exchange with wide eyes. "Come on, I'll introduce you," she said with a reassuring smile. 

"Thanks," Bell said softly. "Will said... they were together?"

"It ended mutually, and amiably. We haven't seen him in a while. I want my hug too," Beverly said, raising her voice for the request, stepping forward.


	7. Chapter 7

Jean-Luc went to the bar for another drink despite feeling a buzz. He hadn't had this habit in years, drinking more than one alcoholic beverage was a rare thing and he avoided inebriation aboard the ship. But this week had been intentionally set aside as a window of freedom -- the entire ship off the radar for the duration, by the permission of admirals, not to be called out for anything but a war. And he suspected he would need the help, to get through the rest of this party. 

It had all started out well enough... the facility was beautiful, a pavilion in the center of a broad green lawn with a dance floor set up on the grass for dancing and music, smaller awnings all around for tables and dining. The buffet was in the northeast corner, the bar in the northwest corner. And he'd lost track of his bride after the long stint of welcoming people, hand-shaking and greeting and trying to remember the names of every crew member he'd met once or twice in passing. The days were longer on Casperia so there was adequate sun left in the day, the recorded playlist went on, punctuated by the duet of Glendenning and Data playing various pieces by Deanna's request. 

Natalia had been the first blow to the event. She'd bounced up to them happily, fondly embraced the counselor when invited, shook his hand and looked him in the eye -- and hugged him too. He then got to watch her run off, blushing furiously, as he stood in shock and hadn't seen her since. Deanna had given him a sympathetic look and turned to greet the next person. 

The next wrinkle had been the fleet admiral -- no uniforms was the order, and she had complied though she could have made an exception. Nechayev in a red dress and heels was enough to make him feel awkward, while greeting her as formally as ever. She hadn't spent a lot of time with them, had wandered away and found herself a drink. She'd returned to sit with them at their table, with the senior officers both former and present -- dinner conversation had been restrained as a result. But at the end of dinner she spared them further awkwardness and gone away to her own accommodation for the remainder of the day, assuring them she would return for the wedding the following day.

They were small inconveniences in a largely uneventful celebration, so he tried to settle out the nerves, sipping the Rigellian mixed drink and walking the perimeter, nodding and smiling at people. Malia stood up from a table and left her family and friends to approach him. "Jean-Luc," she said, looking him in the face with concern. "Are you all right?"

"Fine -- looser than usual with the alcohol," he confessed. "Perhaps tired."

"But you haven't been dancing at all," she complained, smiling, teasing him gently. "I'll bet you don't even know where she is."

"She's having fun, which is fine."

"But are you?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be? I was just heading over to check on some of our guests from other vessels." He pointed with the hand holding his glass, at the southwestern corner of the pavilion where Beverly was chatting with Mengis and some of the other medical staff.

"All right. But I expect to see you having some fun at some point," she said, giving him 'the eye.'

"Yes, ma'am," he said, raising his glass to her. His smile seemed to appease her somewhat; she turned and retraced her steps to her table. Kenny stood up to wave at him, and he waved back before continuing his journey around the dance floor. Lindy and the other children were elsewhere already. They'd tired quickly and the youngest of them had turned cranky, needing naps.

Beverly noticed his approach and watched, which led to Mengis and the others doing the same. "Are we enjoying the party?" he asked.

"We are," Beverly said with a little smile. "Are you?"

"You know, I have to wonder why everyone keeps telling me I'm not having fun. Perhaps I'm doing it wrong?"

"Perhaps it has something to do with your general sober demeanor," Mengis said. "Or the lack of dancing and laughing."

"Or -- and this is just a theory, mind you -- I have a completely different idea of fun, and no one is respecting my differences."

"A cultural awareness training in the making," one of the nurses said. She glanced at the other lieutenant she stood with, but Selar was Vulcan and did not reciprocate the smile. 

"None of you is drinking, by the way. Beverly, a moment, if you would?"

She gave him a scolding look but followed him, her own drink in hand and tucking her hand through his arm just to annoy him. "Why are you dragging me out of socializing? Where is your fiancee?"

"She's talking to Bell, I think." Too much attention was being given to Will's little drama, he thought. "How are you?"

The look that briefly crossed her face said she was still having her own internal drama, but she said, "Fine -- I know better than to expect to get a dance out of you today, so I'll save it for tomorrow at the reception. And you're being asked if you're having fun because you aren't, you dense man. What everyone else is missing is that you'll not be doing that in front of the ensigns."

"I ought to have Deanna put on all her bells and whirl around the dance floor a few times, to distract you from teasing me."

"That would be great! She'll probably have fun doing it." Beverly pinched his arm lightly and marched back to her conversation with the  _Enterprise_ 's medical staff.

He snorted and drank down half the rum punch in a single go, and spun on a heel. He'd landed on the edge of the dance floor, in his meanderings, and Tom was strolling about with his guitar still, at the other side of the sparsely-populated floor. The other captain was watching him; as he made eye contact, he shifted abruptly from idle strumming to playing a slow melody. After a moment he reached up to his lapel of his suit jacket, adjusted something, and then the music came over the speakers in the pavilion's awning. And began to sing in his slightly-husky baritone a melancholy tune.

 _He deals the cards as a meditation_  
_And those he plays never suspect_  
_He doesn't play for the money he wins_  
_He don't play for respect_

People were stopping what they were doing and looking -- the few who'd been goofing around the dance floor cleared it, as if it heralded something they should give space to, and Jean-Luc watched the man play a short bridge and resume singing.

_He deals the cards to find the answer_  
_The sacred geometry of chance_  
_The hidden law of a probable outcome_  
_The numbers lead a dance_

_I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier_  
_I know that the clubs are weapons of war_  
_I know that diamonds are money for this art_  
_But that's not the shape of my heart_

A longer interlude with the guitar, and Data stepped up with his clarinet to join in with a harmony. Jean-Luc wondered if this were some sort of message. Movement drew his attention to his right, and Deanna was there, coming over to him. She'd worn a shimmering metallic-blue dress that had a full skirt she could dance in, and featured a low neckline and translucent sleeves. She was striking, moving with strong intention and the grace of the dancer she was becoming, with all the practice for the festivals and her intense karate schedule.

_He may play the jack of diamonds_  
_He may lay the queen of spades_  
_He may conceal a king in his hand_  
_While the memory of it fades_

_I know that the spades are the swords of a soldier_  
_I know that the clubs are weapons of war_  
_I know that diamonds mean money for this art_  
_But that's not the shape of my heart_

The song was all metaphor, and an odd choice for a happy occasion. Data launched into a clarinet solo at the end of the verse, and Deanna reached him as the song reached the finale, Tom playing descending chords and singing a final indefinite end to the song of the moment.

_That's not the shape_  
_The shape....  
_

Scattered applause -- people were a little confused by it. But Tom changed it up with a more upbeat set of chords, and off the floor not far away someone sat down at a previously-unoccupied drum set. Someone had been putting together last minute arrangements for this. Deanna smiled, took his hand, and Jean-Luc noticed she was tapping her foot.

_If she loved me for my money_  
_I would have no love at all_  
_If she loved me for the car I drive_  
_Our love would surely stall_

_But that's not the way it is_  
_That's not the way it is_  
_That's not the way it is_  
_When she kisses me_

"Would you care to dance, Counselor?" he asked, slipping into the old habit of calling her counselor. He almost regretted that she hadn't worn the dress to this party, the invitation reminded him again of inviting her to their dance in Ten Forward so many months ago.

She laughed, louder than usual -- she might have been drinking as well. She took his glass and put it on a nearby unoccupied table, and bounced up on the dance floor, grabbing his hand, and in his buzzed, not-giving-a-damn state of mind, he let her take the lead, slipped into the mode they'd been in before, reaching for the bond to draw them into synchrony.

 _She don't need sophistication_  
_Or no European airs_  
_She don't want a man who's half a man_  
_To tell her that he cares_

 _But that's not the way it is_  
_That's not the way it is_  
_That's not the way it is_  
_When she kisses me_

Other people were joining them on the floor, and someone's laughter triggered sudden self-consciousness. Deanna reacted at once.  _It's not about us, silly fish. Come on._

He refocused, and they whirled, and he could feel the lift -- she was happier than before, and it brought his feet up off the ground.

 _When she kisses me I don't want nothin'_  
_When she kisses me I just don't care_  
_What cares are there_

 _She don't love me 'cause I'm happy_  
_No it's the other way around_  
_And I don't know if it's so_  
_That she would love me when I'm down_

 _But that's not the way it is_  
_That's not the way it is_  
_That's not the way it is_  
_When she kisses me_

The song ended, and immediately the guitar started a newer, slow song, leading in with quiet chords amplified by the sound system, and the dancers slowed around them. And so did they. Slow dancing was the last thing he had ever wanted to do, but if there ever was a time....

Tom's voice, self-assured and on key, told another story while they swayed together and tuned out everyone else. Deanna was so close, yet somehow they danced together in harmony around each other, her eyes closed as she leaned and almost touched cheek to cheek.

 _If I could forget to breathe_  
_Forget to breathe entirely_  
_It's happened down through history_

 _And surely I could lose my head_  
_Some night I could drink too much_  
_And take it off and just forget_

 _And I will learn all languages_  
_I will speak in every tongue_  
_From highnesses to savages_  
_And to all beneath the sun_

 _Someday I will paint the sky_  
_I will build a ladder, make a roller_  
_That could reach that high_

 _And nothing that I do will pass_  
_Everything I will and make and feel_  
_And dream and know will last_

 _I will rid the world of sorrow_  
_Stop all wars and pain_  
_I will tell you of tomorrow_  
_As I rule the wind and rain_

 _I can do it all it's true_  
_But only when I've done all that_  
_Oh will I turn away from you_

 _Only when I've done all that_  
_Oh will I turn away from you_

As the final chord faded away people were applauding -- it was a bit of a jolt, coming out of the trance, but Deanna joined him in applauding, then turned to leave the dance floor. He was a little surprised to see so many couples dancing. Geordi's playlist resumed, giving the guitarist a break, and as Jean-Luc picked up his drink again and turned to Deanna, Tom arrived. 

"That was lovely, Tom," Deanna said with a smile. "Thank you." 

"You can thank me with a dance -- since he won't dance with me, you'll have to do," Tom said with his lopsided grin. "If you want."

Deanna looked at Jean-Luc, and he smiled. It seemed to be the reassurance she needed that he didn't care. She went out to dance with Tom to a much more upbeat song, and he sat down at the empty table and finished his drink watching them. 

"This seat taken?"

He glanced up -- Will and Bell were there. Bell had found happiness again; her eyes seemed clear of the angst she'd had earlier in the day. He gestured assent and they sat across from him at the small round table, putting down their own drinks. Will wore a black suit as most of them did, and Bell was in the pink dress. They'd been dancing earlier.

"I'd ask you to dance if I thought you would," Bell said, with a sly look that said she had learned to tease him.

"One more of these and I'll ask you," he said, hearing echoes of Cadet Picard from long ago in his own voice. Tom and Deanna whirled past, and Deanna's hand came out, reaching for him as she flew by -- he caught it in a high five without thinking, and settled back to enjoy the shocked looks. "What?"

Will shook his head. "I have to agree with Bev, you've definitely changed."

"I am the sum of my past, and evolution continues," he stated, upending the glass and emptying it. "Well. I see another trip to the bar in the near future."

Deanna returned unexpectedly. "I've been replaced," she said breathlessly. Dropping into the chair next to Jean-Luc, she gestured at Tom.

Beverly had finally decided to dance. And she had found her match in Glendenning -- they were clearly both able to tango with flare and panache, the other dancers giving way as they moved around the dance floor. 

"Wow," Bell exclaimed.

Jean-Luc watched with a grin. He turned to find Deanna, pink-cheeked and still catching her breath, looking at him instead. "Another Rigellian rum fizz and we'll get back out there. Unless you're tired?"

It was a subtle joke, and it put happy lights in her eyes, as she tipped her head and smiled whimsically at him. "Not at all."

A shadow fell across them. Worf, still imposing though he had removed his ceremonial dress armor. "May I have this dance?"

"Oh," Jean-Luc said. 

Worf's mouth twitched. "I was asking Deanna," he said, with the arch tone that suggested he knew he wasn't being misunderstood, but clarifying for the joke.

"I would love to." Deanna rose again and took Worf's hand, and they set off at a sedate waltz that was completely out of rhythm with the fast-paced song currently playing.

Will was staring at him, Jean-Luc noticed again. "Did you honestly think I wouldn't dance at my own wedding?"

"I thought you might. I didn't think you enjoyed dancing."

"There is a time and a place for everything, given the right partner," Jean-Luc exclaimed. He grabbed the empty glass and leaped to his feet. "You should enjoy yourselves -- that's an order," he said, spinning on a heel and plotting a course for the bar.

He heard Bell giggling behind him, and felt the buzz of the alcohol combined with the elation of  _hajira_ , and hardly felt the ground under his shoes. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sting - The Shape of my Heart  
> John Gorka - When She Kisses Me, If I Could Forget to Breathe


	8. Chapter 8

"One more dance," Tom said, as he finished the glass of water he'd gotten from the bar. 

"My feet are sore," Beverly cried, picking up one foot to slip off the shoe and rub her forefoot.

They were sitting at one of many empty tables, and it was dusk -- the party was at the tail end of everything. The songs were less upbeat than before as if taking into consideration that everyone would be tired after three hours of dancing. Three couples were left propping each other up as they swayed to and fro. The bartender was putting things away. Most of the  _Enterprise_ crew had beamed up already. The happy couple had taken up residence at a table at the southwest corner of the dance floor an hour ago, and presided over an ever-changing group of folks taking turns chatting with them. Both looked weary. There were two people sitting there, and as he watched one got up and left.

"Okay, so we don't need to dance. And I guess a walk is also an issue -- unless you want a walk back to the house? Which we could do." 

"I think that's a good idea. I have a field regenerator in my bag."

They left the pavilion heading across the grass, and as they reached a paved path, she caught his hand. Since it wouldn't do to just jump at her and kiss her as he wanted, he reciprocated, meshing his fingers in with hers.

"That was  _so much fun_ ," she said with a happy smile. "I haven't danced like that in  _ages_. Where did you go to school?"

"Well, my mom ran a dance academy in Portland, and my sisters took it over. I learned from Mom, in between watching her give lessons after school, doing my homework. When I was older she paired me up with my idiotic little big sister and I had to compete with her as my partner. Then I got taller than Chloe and ended up with Cat."

It had an unexpected effect on her; he felt the tension in her hand as her fingers gripped his. "Cat?"

"Catriona. My oldest sister. Started her own studio in San Francisco, while I was at the Academy. Why?"

"I danced there," Beverly said. "I knew Cat."

They stopped walking, and stood there holding hands, studying each other. The moons were already risen and giving everything that muted moonlit appearance. 

"Wait," he said, trying to get his bearings. The vague aftereffects of the alcohol had dissipated for the most part, but this caught him off guard.

"She tried to set me up with you," Beverly went on.

"Holy -- so you're actually Beverly  _Howard_? I have to call Cat and tell her about this one," he said with a grin. "She kept telling me about you."

"But she said her brother's name was... it wasn't Tom."

"I go by my middle name. Geraint is a real headache, no one says it right. She's got a bad habit of calling me 'Ger' and I keep telling her not to. No one mangles Tom."

Beverly was staring at him, and as he noticed he started to lean in. She didn't dodge. Their lips brushed and when she still didn't pull away, he pressed in, and felt her arms around him. They kissed for quite a few breathless minutes and as he pulled away he heard footsteps. 

"Get a room," Will Riker chided cheerfully. Bell laughed as she walked down the path with him hand in hand, into the trees. They seemed a little worse for wear, probably footsore as well, from all the dancing.

"I think a bench might be a good intermediate stop," Beverly said. 

There was one on the way, so Tom walked with her, and she took his hand again. "You also play really well -- another side effect of a mom with a dance studio?"

"Yeah, I had piano lessons too, but I like guitar better." He reached back and patted the base of the guitar slung on his back. "This old guy has been with me through many years of broken strings."

"I don't want to sound like I'm jumping ahead or expecting anything," she said softly, after a few minutes of listening to the sound of her heels on the stones. "But I do wonder what you expect."

Tom thought about it -- he had misgivings, and fears, and was too aware of things of which these friends of his tended to live in ignorance. He was expected to file a report for Section 31 when he returned to his ship and headed back toward Earth to return Admiral Tightass McStiffy, as he usually called Nechayev in his thoughts, so as to be smiling when he faced her. 

But Beverly was as perfect as he'd been afraid she would be, the second he'd laid eyes on her. She had, throughout the afternoon and evening, started to hint and then to open up about more -- all the signs of a woman not only interested but investing in building a rapport. Her hand in his put a flutter in his stomach and her wit and sarcasm made him respond in kind. Deanna and Jean-Luc had spent some time enjoying drinks at a table with them, and he'd caught both Beverly and Jean-Luc looking to Deanna, the bellwether -- the lack of concern from her had led to a lack of concern from them. And it worked for him as well. Almost as though her blessing had been given, and the rest of them trusted him at least for now.

"I would call it hope, rather than an expectation," he said at last. 

"It's been a long time," she said. Fortunately the ambiguity was temporary, though it was a tense moment waiting. "Everyone seems to have encounters -- but as enjoyable as a fling can be, it always made me feel more alone when it's over."

He waited as they walked for the axe to fall, but she said nothing more. "So is that an invitation or a death knell?"

She laughed, and it was freeing to hear her do it. "How about neither? I'm asking what you want."

No one asked what Tom wanted. No one cared what Tom wanted. Other than some commentary from Deanna that suggested she cared, and some comradery from Jean-Luc, he had very little evidence that anyone other than his sisters cared. They reached the bench under the trees, and she paused, then sat down, and he dropped the guitar to the ground and sat as well, putting his arm across her shoulders.

"I guess I want to see what happens," he said at last. "I didn't expect this, honestly. Only wedding I've been to since my sister's, I expected to play the guitar and take the admiral home."

They sat in the moonlight filtering through the leaves, and she leaned against him. Her perfume wasn't a typical floral fragrance, which he appreciated. 

"Tom?"

"Yeah?" 

"Do we have a room?"

"Well... there's a room at Data's place. There's a dog there, it barks. There's your room, but I bet it's gonna be noisy there -- you saw how they were dancing out there, right?"

"There's got to be some resort staff to check in late arrivals."

"Yeah." Tom stood up, picked up his guitar, and got his bearings. "They'll tell us which one of these little houses is available."

"Maybe they'll have some toiletries available so I don't have to go back to my room for my things?"

He laughed, as they set off for the office in the pale moonlight. 

"Tom?"

"I just have a good feeling about this... not the usual kind, something else. A big feeling."

Beverly walked with him silently for a while. "You just met me."

"It's all right. I won't read anything into it if I catch the bouquet tomorrow."

She laughed again, and this time he joined her. He caught her hand and swung his guitar up on his other shoulder, and walked off to find a private place to be.


	9. Chapter 9

Will rubbed his eyes, groaning. "We need to find the house medkit. Got to be something in it for a headache."

"I'll go look," Bell said, swinging her legs out of the bed. She pulled her robe out of the closet and threw it on. "And if I can't find it I know Beverly has a medkit."

"Careful, she might have more than a medkit."

"Just because they were kissing? Honestly," Bell said, sliding the door open.

While she was gone he fell back in bed, and smirked. The reception had been an eye-opener. A somewhat-inebriated Jean-Luc Picard could actually dance, Worf had learned to laugh more often along the way, and also to dance -- and then Glendenning had turned out to be a professional dancer? Surely there was some sort of alien phenomena to blame. The Mirror Universe?

Bell returned, sliding the door open and shut, with a hypo in hand. She pressed it to his neck. "Better?"

"Gods, yes. Thank you."

Bell sat on the edge of the bed, a strange smirk on her face.

"I'm afraid to ask."

"Beverly's not in her room. I couldn't find the house kit so I tried her room, she wasn't there. Deanna is getting breakfast out of the replicator to take to her room."

"Well, then. Maybe we should have breakfast in bed too?"

Bell shrugged. She hugged herself and appeared to be thinking hard again, but not upset.

"Unless you're not hungry?"

"Your friends, are they all being themselves? Or are they on their best behavior?"

That was curious. Will raised an eyebrow, but the usual comedy didn't elicit a smile from her. He elbowed pillows up behind him and sat up again. "Some of them have changed in ways I didn't expect, but it makes sense that they did. Most of the time everyone was themselves. Jean-Luc doesn't normally let himself drink that much, but evidently the  _Enterprise_ has been given a week of down time, they won't get orders until the party's all over. So he's about the most relaxed and loose I've ever seen him be. I don't think anyone has any doubts about how happy they are together. But they have weird nicknames for each other, and Deanna is not as soft and easygoing as she used to be."

"I like Data," Bell said, tucking her hands in the sleeves of the fluffy white robe. "Worf was a gentleman, nothing like I thought he would be. Jean-Luc is wonderful. He doesn't speak until he's sure of himself, I noticed."

"A good habit to have in many situations. Wish I had cultivated that habit sooner."

"I like Deanna," Bell said. Something about the way she said it made him anxious. He watched, waited, cultivated that habit. Bell smiled at long last. "I was afraid that she wasn't telling me the truth, though."

"About?"

"When I was having my tipsy meltdown after lunch yesterday, I confessed that I thought you still had feelings for her. She said that what you were really going through was nostalgia for the way it used to be on the  _Enterprise_. I thought that couldn't possibly be true. But I think you really do miss all of them, including her, because you're all good friends. Closer than I'd expect -- look at what they're doing, they took over a resort to spend a week with their friends for their wedding. Most weddings you show up and wait, watch the ceremony, dance at the reception and leave again. They're making the priority being with their friends."

"Yeah, I know." It was touching, really. It reminded Will of the time Jean-Luc had spent time with all of them, explaining what he'd seen of some possible future in his last encounter with Q.

"But I still wonder if you have feelings for her, still," Bell said, getting to the bottom of it.

Will sighed heavily. "I'll always love her, because I always have. But I'm not in love with her any more. I had to agree with her after all the fighting was over, that wanting her to go with me to the  _Lexington_ was just a way of trying to take some of what I had on the  _Enterprise_ with me."

"I don't know... you still seem protective of her."

"Both of them," he said, surprising himself. "I was the first officer, it was part of my job for a long time. How many times I argued with him to stay aboard. Neither of them seemed to be thinking any of it through. And if Data is right, and she might be first officer... I cannot imagine how that will play out. Maybe it's just that I can't see myself with Rachel, at all. Maybe it's that I was his first officer for years, and there were a few times that the professional forced me to set aside friendship -- that was difficult."

Bell stared at him in a thoughtful, intense manner reminiscent of Deanna. It was usually the prelude to getting scolded, so he smiled at her, trying to defuse the situation. 

"I know. I'm guilty of it too. It's the way it is, with love. Head first and figure it out later. But that's how we all worked together on the _Enterprise_ , one of us would lose our heads about something and the rest kept it together to help, and we all stayed alive in dire situations time after time."

"You said you were engaged to her before. She said you bailed out on your own wedding."

He caught himself -- he was learning, oh yes he was. Inhale, exhale, repeat. "I took a promotion. I had to go -- it was a choice between abandoning my career and going to Risa."

"I hope that if we do get to a place where we're considering marriage, that you offer me more options," she said. Crossing her arms and staring, now.

Will had to hold his breath. That Deanna had shouted at him recently, brought just exactly this mistake out in the heat of the moment, didn't help. Losing all rational thought when he'd found out about her getting in bed with his former captain and good friend was a fresh and painful regret, and that he'd reacted immediately with rage was a bigger regret. Why Deanna had told Bell this was beyond him, and again he was angry at her -- but the perspective he'd gained argued against it being a vindictive move on Deanna's part. Something else was afoot. Deanna wouldn't try to undermine, there had to be a good reason.

"I'd like to think that I'm not a stupid young lieutenant any more," he said, rather than descend into denials and anger. "And at this point  the next promotion would be something that makes easier to take you with me. Right?"

That wasn't the best thing to say. Bell's face was anguished, and he almost jumped out of bed -- but after a moment he realized he was expecting her to infer too much. 

"Bell, I do love you," he said softly. "Forgive me for continually phrasing it in terms of career. Logistics is what I do for a living. I'm sorry -- I'm out of practice in the language of love. I'm trying to say that I don't want to prioritize the work over us."

That was better -- she smiled, rolled and wriggled up to lay on him with her head on his shoulder. 

"We should stick around after the wedding, maybe go hiking or just sit around the pool," he said. 

"Only if Tom doesn't stay here. You don't seem to like him."

"He's a little over the top, don't you think?"

"I wasn't sure what to make of Glendenning at first. But the Picards are fine with him, and he's nice enough to me. Did you notice, if Beverly is in the room he's got his eye on her. It's not just a fling."

"He's never seen her before," Will said. "He just met her."

"I know, which makes it all the more interesting. Obviously there's some chemistry there. Sound familiar?"

Will smiled at the memory. "Oh, yeah. So what'll it be, breakfast in bed, or do we go out and sit at the table?"

She slid off the bed, went to the closet and tossed him a robe. "Let's go eat at the table."

Geordi joined them as they started to eat -- also in his robe, and looking a little worse for wear. "Good morning," he said as he brought over a cup of coffee and a plate of hot food. "The big day is here -- only three hours to get ready. I don't know how I should wear my hair or do my makeup." He gestured at his very-short hair.

Bell laughed at him. "Did you have fun at the pre-reception?"

"I did -- all those lovely ladies to dance with," he said. "There'll be fewer of them today at the real reception, but I think it'll be quality over quantity then. I gotta admit, it's been a great time so far."

Will ate -- the omelet was passable. The coffee was very good, however. "Are there other guests showing up today?"

"Not sure. I know they invited more than could attend."

"But all the ones that matter most are here already," Jean-Luc said, drawing their attention -- he'd come out with a stack of dishes while they talked, and was making his way in to the replicator. He wore a robe and was barefoot. 

"Only three hours," Geordi said, as if reminding him.

"Yes, yes, you'd better get that suit on." He started back to his room, but hesitated when the front door opened, and raised his eyebrows. "Well, well, well. Good morning."

Beverly strode in as if she weren't wearing yesterday's dress, looking rumpled and with her hair in disarray. "Good morning." She zoomed past him headed down the hall.

Bell made a choked noise that might have been a laugh. Will grinned. "I think she might have had a good time last night."

Jean-Luc frowned, but headed back without comment.

"I'm going to check in with the bride before I get ready myself," Bell said.

It took an hour and a half for both of them to get ready, and Will stood around in the living room for Bell to put the finishing touches on her makeup. Geordi had already left with Jean-Luc. He turned at the sound of heels on the wood floor and saw that Deanna was ready. He hummed a bar of the wedding march, and she smiled.

"Don't you look nice," she said, with the affectionate smile she used to have for him on a more regular basis. It gave him hope that she was finally thawing, that the damage he'd done to their friendship was healing, but he also had to admit to himself that the occasion might be the reason. She didn't want to have drama. Ordering him to have fun with his girlfriend had made that crystal clear.

He ignored the nostalgic little twinge of regret. "You look beautiful, Deanna."

She wore the strange, simple dress, held a bouquet of red and white roses, and her hair was curled and caught up in a band on the back of her head, the bulk of it hanging down over her shoulders. Just a few spiraled curls dangled down in front of her ears, and long silver earrings glittered at her earlobes. She wore a silver necklace with two pendants, a blue sapphire and a silver swan, tiny and intricate. And she was barefoot. But she was clearly happy; it showed in her eyes most of all. 

Bell came out then, wearing a pale pink dress and heels, her hair braided and pinned up. She smiled at Deanna. "Perfect," she said, taking Deanna's hand. "Is anyone walking you down the aisle today?"

"I'm going to dance down the aisle on my own," she said. 

"No best man? No maid of honor?" Will asked. Jean-Luc hadn't said a word.

"We have a flower girl, to sprinkle petals. A ring bearer to bring in the rings. If you and the other men wish to stand with him, and the women wish to come in with me, you are welcome to do so." Deanna smiled at Bell. "Are we ready to go?"

A door slid open down the hall and Beverly emerged, her hair coiled on the back of her head and wearing a pale green dress. There had perhaps been a memo about the preferred dress code, and pastels seemed to be the choice for the ladies.

"Did I miss the pre-wedding briefing?"

"We can be bridesmaids if we want to be," Bell said. 

"Good! Are we supposed to be somewhere specific?"

Deanna pointed them at the door. "Let's go."

On the way to the pavilion on this bright sunny day, they found themselves joined on their walk by Tom and his guitar -- he too wore a black suit, the white shirt beneath visible between the lapels. He'd slicked down his unruly blond hair, trimmed his beard and had a smile ready for the bride.

"You'd think you were heading for an occasion," Deanna said, as he came up alongside and leaned to kiss her on the head. Will suffered through a spark of ire at that, but whatever Tom was to her, the affection was not unwelcome to either her or Jean-Luc. He wondered -- but any move to kiss or touch the bride had too much potential for misunderstanding, so he steeled himself against that temptation.

"Still going with the plan we discussed?" Tom asked.

"Yes."

"Yay," he cried, pumping a fist. "I get to play at Captain Picard's wedding -- hitting the big time!"

"I hope deLio has security in place," Deanna said.

Will exchanged a look with Bell -- nothing had been mentioned about needing security. They sped up a little, coming up closer behind the bride. "Is something going on?" Will asked.

Deanna glanced over her shoulder at them. "Nothing we know of yet but better safe than sorry. I'm also not wanting anyone from the media -- we don't think that there will be, it's not been talked about outside the invitation list, but one never knows. The fact that the flagship is completely off the duty roster might have attracted attention."

"I'd think there would be a cover story, maybe have a team working on something so the official story could be repairs," Will said.

They approached the north end of the area around the pavilion where yesterday's party had been. There was a building, and Deanna went in an open door, into a large lounge area. "This is where we wait until the ceremony starts," she said, pointing at the double doors -- they were clear, giving a view down the gentle slope to the pavilion. A white runner had been rolled out, down the hill, between the rows of chairs that had replaced the dance floor, to the southern end where a dais had been placed. Huge vases of flowers had been placed at corners and strung along the edges of the white canopy.

"I guess the men are supposed to go stand with the groom?" Tom said. "But I'll hang here with the ladies for a while."

Will smiled as he scanned faces -- Beverly was blushing a little and glancing at Tom, and Bell was amused noticing it. Deanna had a look that he knew was an indication that she was trying so very hard not to laugh about something she sensed.

"I'll go up front -- see you all in a while." Will kissed Deanna on the cheek, then Beverly, then kissed Bell on the lips. He went out the door, ignoring Tom's comment about feeling neglected, and strode down toward the pavilion, where he could see Jean-Luc in a group of people milling around at the south end.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't understand the list of guests, you haven't read previous stories.

Malia, her husband John Ching, and Kenny were the first to arrive after Jean-Luc. The little boy wore the same black suit as the rest of the men in the wedding, and stood tall and proud as he greeted everyone at his Uncle Captain's side; Geordi stood with them, smiling with every new arrival at the way Kenny was trying so hard to be formal. Malia and her husband sat in the front row smiling proudly.

Today, Nechayev wore her dress uniform -- the white and gold stood out among the dresses and suits, but she was of course there as an admiral, not a friend. She waited behind Lindy's mother, who took more time as Lindy had to show off her little white dress, her little basket of rose petals, and then she had to pick up the petals after a demonstration of her petal-tossing acumen. Gloria Rundquist, a lieutenant in astrometrics, informed him that Lindy had practiced all evening after her nap.

Then the girl had to stand with Kenny, because of course she did. So after Gloria went to take a seat with the Chings, the admiral stepped up to shake his hand while Lindy shouted a welcome.

To his surprise, Nechayev smiled down at the little girl. "Are you in the wedding, young lady?"

"I'm the FLOWER GIRL!" Lindy said, with great glee. "And Kenny is the RING BEAR!"

"And you are doing a fine job," she said. "But aren't you in the wrong place? I understood that flower girls and ring bears walk into the ceremony ahead of the bride and the bridesmaids. Therefore you should be waiting with the bride."

Kenny looked up at Jean-Luc anxiously. "We're in the wrong place!"

"I would have reminded you, but if you want to go now, they're in the building up there." Jean-Luc pointed up the long white runner to the building.

Kenny raced up the runner, and Lindy ran to her mother for the basket and ran after him. Some of the petals fell out as she ran, so she stopped to pick them up, repeating the process several times before slowing to a walk.

"Lovely children. And this is a lovely venue -- thank you for inviting me, Captain," Nechayev said. "I also appreciate that it gives me an excuse for time off. I hadn't been to Casperia before."

"Thank you, Admiral. We're honored that you took the time to be with us. We're about forty-five minutes from the ceremony, please feel free to have a beverage and sit wherever you please," he said, gesturing at the table where the resort staff had set up water dispensers and some other nonalcoholic beverages for the guests.

"Thank you, I believe I will." Nechayev nodded to Geordi and headed for the table.

Geordi edged closer. "I guess we'll have to be on our best behavior."

"I'm not concerned." Which was a lie, but no one would begrudge him some forced optimism, certainly.

"You don't look anxious but you never do," Geordi muttered, watching a transporter effect starting not far from them on the grass.

"Being a captain is good practice. Here comes Will," he replied, as Will came down the white runner to them. From the right Worf was striding across the lawn toward them, wearing his full ceremonial armor.

"The ladies are up there waiting with the kids, all's well. Except I left Tom with them," Will said.

"Apparently he's following Deanna's request -- oh," he exclaimed, distracted by recognizing the three people who had just beamed down. "That's -- Narviat!" he called out, raising a hand.

The three Romulans were getting stared at, but they came over to Jean-Luc with broad smiles in place. "Captain," Narviat exclaimed, taking the offered hand to firmly shake it. "We barely made it in time. The public transport system is obviously subject to delays."

"I see life on Betazed is doing well by you." The three of them were wearing Betazoid styles, in brighter colors -- rich burgundy, green and brown clothing. Toreth seemed relaxed, Tarel was happy, and Narviat had lost weight. Jean-Luc gestured at Will. "This is Captain William Riker, my former first officer. You might remember Lieutenant-Commander LaForge."

"A pleasure to meet you," Narviat said.

Will nodded, smiling the polite smile of the diplomat. He was being challenged again -- accepting Tom, the mischievous and challenging, had been difficult. Now a random trio of Romulans suddenly arriving had startled him into tension again. Jean-Luc smiled at him, hoping it was enough.

"This is Narviat, his wife Tarel, and her sister Toreth. They're Federation citizens -- or will be?"

"Last week," Tarel said. "And Betazed is allowing us to petition for citizenship as well."

"I am glad to hear you are settling in well."

"Where is our favorite Betazoid?" Tarel asked.

"Oh -- the ceremony customarily involves the bride walking out to join the groom, so she is waiting up there," he pointed at the building, "until the ceremony begins. I'm sure she would want to greet you, you're welcome to go up to see her before the ceremony."

"Thank you, we would very much like to -- we'll be able to talk again later?" Tarel said.

"At the reception -- directly following the ceremony."

"We'll see you then," Tarel said, taking Narviat's arm. Toreth smiled at him in passing as the three marched up the long white runner. Jean-Luc saw Nechayev watching them keenly, but the admiral remained where she was, standing near the beverage table. As was Worf; he'd stopped and now glared at the Romulans. Jean-Luc watched him, and fortunately Worf finally unfroze and looked at him, caught his eye, and continued his approach. As he came to a halt next to Geordi he huffed noisily.

"Worf," Jean-Luc said in greeting. "I know your feelings on the matter, but those are citizens of the Federation, and my friends."

The Klingon's nostrils flared and he looked to Will, then Geordi. "Then I will do my best to avoid them, and enjoy the ceremony." He glanced around. "Are you both standing with the captain, per the traditional Terran ceremony?"

"You are welcome to stand with me as well, Worf. I would be honored," Jean-Luc said.

Worf took a step and turned to stand with Geordi, shoulders back and head high. He looked like he might be on guard against some army that might storm the wedding.

Will shrugged, tilted his head as if to say 'okay then' and turned to stand on Jean-Luc's left, clasping his hands in front of him. "I knew this was going to be an interesting wedding."

"Oh, yes. A given. We invited them without expecting them to actually attend." The communications from the expatriated Romulans had indicated they were busy, helping Betazed recover from the war and settling into their new homes. Keeping in touch and answering questions seemed the decent thing to do, given the general attitude toward Romulans in many corners of the Federation. Toreth was still considering her options and making inquiries, and asked him for advice from time to time.

"How well do you know them?" Will asked.

"Well enough. Toreth abandoned her Empire to bring us to safety, Narviat opened his home to us while we were on Romulus with full knowledge of who we are -- he has a genuine affection for Deanna. While I'm not inclined to make decisions based on feelings, they were consistently acting as they said they would, and their intentions aligned with ours."

"Who is this now?" Will asked, gesturing.

Another transporter beam dropped two more people in the same spot as the Romulans. The two men looked around, spotted the wedding party, and started walking toward them.

"Gary," Jean-Luc exclaimed, shocked to see the archaeologist so far from Zanzibar. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Carl and I couldn't pass it up," Gary said, as he stopped and shook hands. "We needed better beer anyway. And free food!"

"This is Captain Will Riker," Jean-Luc said, "and Lieutenant-Commander Geordi LaForge. Ambassador Worf. These rogues are Gary Conklin and Carl Blumenthal, archaeologists who've managed to tear themselves away from the dig on Zanzibar for some reason."

"Gary has a crush on your fiancee," Carl said with a grin.

"Pssh, you know weddings are the best place to meet people," Gary scoffed. "So where should we sit?"

After more promises to talk later at the reception, they went to sit in the fourth row, with a few others. Jean-Luc glanced left and right at his friends.

"You invited a lot of people," Geordi said. "Didn't they confirm they were coming?"

"There were a few 'maybe' responses. I thought they were being optimistic -- they told me as much, that they didn't believe they would be able to pull it off."

"I know you asked everyone you invited not to tell anyone, but maybe someone did? Who is that?" Geordi pointed.

Jean-Luc turned, as did Will and Worf. A man was wandering on the periphery, someone he'd never seen before. "I don't know."

"I will find out," Worf announced, and marched off at a fast clip toward the man.

"Will, perhaps you should help him," Jean-Luc said, thinking that perhaps a Klingon in full armor would not get very honest or coherent answers from someone.

Will loped off after the Klingon, caught up and walked with him. "Media?" Geordi muttered.

"I certainly hope not. If one is here, there may very well be many of them."

"deLio said he was going to have security posted on the perimeter."

Will returned at a trot, and Worf was carrying the man away by the back of the shirt. When he arrived slightly out of breath, Will straightened his black jacket and said, "He said he's a guest in another part of the resort and he heard that Captain Picard was here. Evidently you've been recognized."

"Ah. So it was nothing then." Jean-Luc put his hands behind his back and shifted his feet farther apart -- standing for too long was uncomfortable. 

"So what are you going to do if Deanna decides she wants to be Betazoid, and come down the aisle naked?" Will asked.

Geordi was quick to stifle a snicker. Jean-Luc looked at him with a smirk. "I already told her she could. She's still wearing the dress?"

"She was when I left her, yes. It's not really a wedding gown, I thought it might be her plan to toss it off at the last minute."

"There's a reason she's wearing it." He paused, wondering if he should tell the story, or let Deanna do it.

"Because she was wearing it on your first date," Geordi said unexpectedly.

Well, as startling as that was, it was essentially true. Jean-Luc nodded, and turned his head as once again, a transporter dropped two more people on the lawn in the same place. Two women, and as they approached he recognized Natalia Greenman as one of them, though she wore a dress with a floral pattern on a pale blue background. As they drew closer the other's face was more recognizable.

"Melissa!"

Walker Keel's sister hurried the last few steps and raised her arms, and he accepted the embrace without hesitation. He hadn't seen her in decades; as she stepped back to smile at him, he noticed Natalia was shocked to immobility, watching them. "How are you, Johnny?"

"Well, I can't complain. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to get back to attend Walker's funeral."

"When Nat told me you were getting married, I had to come. I hope you don't mind. I had to see for myself -- I don't think anyone believed you ever would," she said with a laugh. She'd aged, had crow's feet and was no longer the slender girl she'd been in his memory for so long. 

"Forgive my manners -- this is Captain William Riker," he said, glancing at Will. Riker was watching with raised eyebrows. "And Lieutenant-Commander LaForge, Ambassador Worf of Qo'nos. This is Melissa Keel, who became Melissa Greenman -- Walker Keel's sister. You remember when the  _Horatio_ was destroyed, I think."

Enlightenment -- Will stepped forward to greet her, then Geordi, and Worf said hello. Jean-Luc gestured at Natalia. She approached hesitantly and turned to wood when he tugged her in and gave her the briefest of hugs. Her enthusiastic hug at the party the day before had embarrassed her to no end, and he couldn't imagine how he would begin to broach the subject. She'd disappeared from the party entirely. Deanna had suggested that some gesture might reassure her, the next time he saw her, and this was the first opportunity. Likely the last for a while since there would be four more days of leave before he returned to the ship.

"I'm glad you're here, Natalia," he said. "And thank you for telling your mother."

Natalia's shock melted into a grin, and though her eyes got a little moist she avoid tears. "Thank you, sir."

"The ceremony is about to start. We'll talk later," he said, turning back to Melissa. Mother and daughter exchanged smiles and went to find seats.

There were by his estimation twenty-five people -- his senior staff save deLio, who was in command of the  _Enterprise_ , the Chings, the Carlisle family, the admiral, and now the Greenmans. He sighed, wishing his brother could be there.

Data finally made his appearance, coming down the runner with the holo-imager in hand. "I have taken sufficient images of the bride and her retinue. Would you care to pose for the camera, gentlemen?" 


	11. Chapter 11

"Hold still!" Beverly did her best to pin the flower on the front of Lindy's dress without poking her. The little girl was nothing but wriggles and giggles. She stood on the chair squirming.

"Lindy, you look very pretty in your dress," Deanna said calmly. "What do you think of mine?"

"It's really pretty," Lindy said. Getting the girl's attention decreased the wiggles, and the final adjustment was made. Beverly smiled, and the girl jumped down to the floor and picked up her basket. She raced over to the doors and stood looking out with Kenny.

"How did you end up with a flower girl?" Beverly asked, turning to look at Deanna. Bell was curious as well. They were waiting anxiously, and filling the time with chitchat. Tom was leaning against the wall, strumming idly to pass the time. Beverly tried not to look at him too often and felt silly for it -- she wasn't even sure why it was so awkward, no one had commented even though she was sure they all knew she'd spent the night with him.

"Malia and Gloria were talking about the wedding in front of the children in one of the holodeck visits, and the older children started asking questions," Deanna said. "Jean-Luc sometimes reads to the children in the nursery, and Lindy ambushed him."

That led to incredulous laughter. Beverly put her hand to her mouth, shaking her head. "I never thought I would see him thaw out. He's so different now."

"I think you have visitors," Bell said.

As one they all turned to look. Beverly's heart stopped -- three Romulans had walked in the open door and were staring at them. Deanna burst out laughing again and hurried over with arms outstretched.

"Narviat, how  _are_ you?" she cried, as the man embraced her. She did the same to the other two, though the second woman was a little slow to respond. "We didn't think you would be able to come!"

"Hey," Tom said, standing away from the wall. "Look who it is."

" _Tetya,_ " the man, apparently Narviat, said warmly. "You look wonderful."

"Wow," Bell said quietly, as Deanna greeted the other two Romulans.

"It's a long story," Tom said. He smiled at Beverly, and she responded with a warm smile of her own. "I like your dress."

"Thanks," she murmured, unsure how to respond to the odd compliment.

He leaned closer. "I like what's in it better," he whispered.

Bell went into motion suddenly, interjecting herself into Deanna's reunion with her friends. Beverly glared at him. "Stop that," she whispered.

"And you remember Tom Glendenning," Deanna said, louder now. "And this beautiful woman he's propositioning is Dr. Beverly Crusher, one of my best friends."

"Aw, shit," Tom blurted. He turned away and started playing his guitar again. "Damn Betazoid."

"When is the ceremony supposed to start?" one of the female Romulans asked. "Perhaps we should find a seat."

"It starts when I send the flower girl down the aisle with the guitarist," Deanna said. "So go find a seat -- I'll come find you after the ceremony."

The Romulans left the room, and Deanna came over to stand behind Lindy and Kenny, who had watched with big eyes -- shy around strangers, Beverly thought. They'd probably never seen a Romulan before and neither was old enough to have a class where they would have an introduction to species of the Beta Quadrant.

"Deanna?" Bell asked, sounding concerned.

The bride turned, smiling ruefully. "We didn't expect them to actually come. They said they would be in the middle of a project at the Fourth House."

"I guess they have other priorities," Bell said. "How did you meet them?"

"I hate to say it, but I can't tell you the whole story. We met on a mission."

Bell held up her hands. "Say no more. Shall we go?"

"A moment," said a familiar voice -- Data came in with the holo-imager in hand. He wore a black suit like the others, but more old-fashioned. Beverly smiled, seeing the bow tie and white chrysanthemum in the buttonhole.

"Come on kids, let's get some images taken," Deanna said. 

They spent a little while wrangling kids into poses, with and without bride. Kenny kept ordering Lindy around and needing redirection. Beverly didn't miss this part of having kids. Of course, she missed so many other things -- and at the end of it she decided she missed this too, the endless negotiation with little humanoids to teach them how to become big humanoids, who would then find each other and make more little humanoids. 

Data also took shots of Deanna with each of them. She stood arm in arm with Tom, the height difference almost comical until he suggested standing on one of the low end tables so she seemed taller. Beverly noticed the easy back and forth of them laughing together and teasing each other, and wondered again about how they had befriended the man. He sounded like the quadrant's least famous captain, and how they'd ended up on a mission together didn't make much sense to her.

"I will go and document the groomsmen and the groom," Data said when Deanna was satisfied. He paused, looking at them with an odd little smile, as if he wanted to pay special attention. "I would like to say that of all the weddings that I have attended, I find this one most significant and satisfying of all. Thank you for inviting me."

"Thank you for being willing to help, Data," Deanna said warmly. "If I wanted anyone to walk me down the aisle, I would have chosen you -- I dislike that particular tradition, however, for what are likely obvious reasons."

Not so obvious, but Beverly made a note to ask later. Data seemed to understand; he nodded and turned to stride out of the room.

"Are we going now?" Lindy exclaimed, racing over to pick up her basket again.

"In a minute, honey." Deanna looked down at herself, turning in place. "Am I still a perfect bride?"

"You're beautiful, and everything is fine," Bell said. "Not a hair out of place."

"I'm ready when you are," Beverly said, infusing it with enthusiasm. It would be the wedding of the century.

Deanna froze for a few seconds, with an odd expression on her face. This was the wedding jitters finally showing up, Beverly thought. She waited, and when the bride didn't speak, she went to touch her arm. "Take a deep breath."

Deanna obeyed, and turned in place. She looked at the floor for a moment, then raised her head and seemed to normalize. "Tom, it's time to go."

"Your wish is my command." He came forward, and looked down at the kids. Lindy had already started to hop in place. "Lindy, you need to count to ten, and follow me down the hill walking as slowly as you can. When you get to the chairs you start sprinkling. Kenny, after Lindy starts you count to ten and do the same -- nice slow walk."

"Yeah," the boy said. He raised his arms and growled.

"What's that about?" Tom asked.

"I'm a ring bear!" Kenny shouted at a volume more typical of him. 

"Yeah, you can do that -- you wait til you see your Uncle Captain though, all right?" Tom opened the door and went.

"TOM!" Beverly called out.

Deanna and Bell were laughing. "Oh, well," Deanna said, watching Tom's back as he walked away. The kids had followed him out and were waiting on the end of the runner, Lindy doing the anxious dance of the hyperactive kid. If any of them went out to scold Kenny everyone would know it.

"My god, Dee," Beverly exclaimed.

"It could be worse," Deanna said with a sigh. "Mother could be here."

The speakers outside came to life, and Tom played a tune slow enough to walk to, not the wedding march of tradition but something with a little more kick to it. "What did you ask him to play?"

"Something with flair. I think he's making it up as he goes along."

Footsteps approached on the stone walkway, and Natalia came in the open door. "I was informed that I should come up here?"

Deanna smiled fondly at the ensign, in her dress, wobbling in heels. "You should get up here, you're going right after Kenny."

Natalia's eyes went wide. "You mean --  _in_ the wedding? Is that -- really?"

Deanna gestured for her to come over, and lined her up in the door. Bell went to stand behind her as asked, and Beverly got in line. 

"No shenanigans, anyone," Deanna said. 

"We've had enough of that," Beverly said. "There goes Lindy."

They all watched the girl in the white dress very carefully walking with the basket full of rose petals. She reached the chairs after Kenny started walking, so it was harder to watch her pitch rose petals. When she got all the way down to where the men were standing at the front, she spun on a toe, swinging the basket in a wide circle and flinging what was left of the petals all over, threw the basket away, and lunged at Jean-Luc to hug his leg. 

"Oh nooooo," Natalia said, laughing.

"Straighten up, it's your turn," Bell said. It propelled the ensign out -- she wobbled a little but straightened out and walked. Bell waited for a bit, glanced over her shoulder with a smile, and went.

Beverly watched for a few minutes, and reached back -- after a hand clasp she left Deanna there and walked sedately down the hill. She was aware of eyes on her, but didn't look directly at anyone - she was sure Tom was standing with the men at the front, still playing. She was as nervous as if it was her wedding, for some reason. As she reached the front row of chairs Tom shifted to a lighter, happier tune. 

Beverly did look at him then -- was he mad? The tempo was too fast. Tom stood at the end of the line of men in suits, next to Worf, who was wide-eyed and looking askance at the guitar -- Tom grinned like a fiend and plinked out his happy song. Beverly moved to the left, to stand at the front of the short line of bridesmaids, turning -- she ended up facing Jean-Luc, who waited in front of the dais. He was watching his bride with a peculiar smile.

Deanna was coming down the aisle more quickly than the rest of them, her head high and a radiant smile in place, her eyes focused on Jean-Luc. She slowed at the end of the runner and walked the last few steps to Jean-Luc, who stood waiting for her with such a serene smile that Beverly found herself sighing and smiling herself. Tom reached a gentle denouement for his "wedding march" and the guitar went silent at last.

"Thank you," the magistrate said, his voice projected through the speakers. The little microphones the resort used for their sound system worked really well, the clarity was excellent. The balding older man put a padd on the dais, and the wedding party rearranged themselves slightly; Deanna stepped up to take Jean-Luc's arm as he turned to face the man who would perform the civil ceremony. "You may all be seated."

There was a wave of rustling and creaking chairs, as the guests did so. Beverly took the bouquet when Deanna held it out to her, and settled in for the actual ceremony with a composed smile, as she noticed Data starting to use the holo-imager, moving down to the front row to get a good angle. She looked forward to the afterparty where they would all hopefully settle down with a glass of Picard Burgundy and see all the images, and possibly some video of the 'ring bear.'

"Welcome, family, friends and loved ones. We are gathered here today, surrounded by the beauty, the sights and sounds of nature, to celebrate the wedding of Jean-Luc and Deanna. You have come here from far and wide to share in this commitment now they make to one another, to offer your love and support to their union as they start their married life together surrounded by the people dearest and most important to them."

Deanna looked down at her hands -- Beverly tracked the movement and saw that Jean-Luc had taken both her hands in his. She wondered what was going on; Jean-Luc had closed his eyes. The magistrate went on.

"Jean-Luc and Deanna, marriage is the promise between two people who love each other, who trust that love, who honor one another as individuals in that togetherness, and who wish to spend the rest of their lives together. Marriage brings together two separate souls to share their desires, longings, dreams, and memories, their joys and sorrows, and to help each other through all uncertainties of life.

"A strong marriage also nurtures each of you as separate individuals and allows you to maintain your unique identity and grow in your own way through the years ahead. It is a safe haven for each of you to become your best self. You are adding to your life not only the affection of each other, but also the companionship and blessing of a deep trust. You are agreeing to share strength, responsibilities and love. It takes more than love to make this relationship work. It takes trust, to know in your hearts that you want only the best for each other. It takes dedication, to stay open to one another, to learn and grow, even when it is difficult to do so. And it takes faith, to go forward together without knowing what the future holds for you both."

The man paused, turned a page, smiled benevolently down at the couple. "Jean-Luc would like to recite now Shakespeare's Sonnet numbered one hundred sixteen, to his bride."

Beverly blinked -- she had expected a simple civil ceremony, nothing fancy. From the stunned look on Will's face, behind and slightly to Jean-Luc's left, he hadn't expected it either. But Captain Picard's voice recited the words without so much as a quiver, with an unexpected warmth as he looked into the face of the woman in front of him.

_"Let me not to the marriage of true minds_

_Admit impediments. Love is not love_

_Which alters when it alteration finds,_

_Or bends with the remover to remove._

_O no! it is an ever-fixed mark_

_That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_

_It is the star to every wand'ring bark,_

_Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken._

_Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks_

_Within his bending sickle's compass come;_

_Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,_

_But bears it out even to the edge of doom._

_If this be error and upon me prov'd,_

_I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd."_

 

Beverly heard a sniffle behind her. She didn't want to look. She knew if she saw one of them in tears she would be as well. Blinking, she watched the back of Deanna's head, and what she could see of Jean-Luc's face beyond it, and wondered what Deanna's expression might be. He was apparently focused entirely on his bride, probably doing his best to ignore the fact that he had a large audience witnessing this intensely-emotional experience.

"Deanna would like to recite a sonnet by Pablo Neruda, numbered seventeen, to her groom." 

There was complete silence -- probably no one was daring to move, or it might break the moment. Deanna's voice was as steady as Jean-Luc's had been.

 

_"I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,_  

_or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:_

_I love you as one loves certain dark things,_

_secretly, between the shadow and the soul._

_I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries_

_the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,_

_and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose_

_from the earth lives dimly in my body._

_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,_

_I love you directly without problems or pride:_

_I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,_

_except in this form in which I am not nor are you,_

_so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,_

_so close that your eyes close with my dreams."_

 

Another silence, and Beverly blinked again, trying to keep it together, not looking at anything but the mass of dark curls in front of her. 

"Jean-Luc and Deanna, please join hands, look at one another now. Jean-Luc, do you take Deanna to be your wife?"

"I do." 

"Deanna, do you take Jean-Luc to be your husband?"

"I do."

One of the men cleared his throat, sounding like he was having some difficulty. The magistrate ignored it and went on.

"Jean-Luc. Please take Deanna's hand, and repeat after me. Deanna -- I promise from this day forward to be generous with my time, my energy and my affection, to fill our life with adventure and our home with laughter, to inspire you to grow as an individual, to love you completely. These things I pledge to you."

After a tense pause, he repeated it -- this time there was a distinct quaver in his voice, but it stabilized and he finished it out to the end without difficulty.

"Deanna. Please take Jean-Luc's hand, and repeat after me. Jean-Luc -- I promise from this day forward to be generous with my time, my energy and my affection, to fill our life with adventure and our home with laughter, to inspire you to grow as an individual, to love you completely. These things I pledge to you."

There was no hesitation from Deanna, and her voice resonated with warmth and joy. Beverly took a deep breath and resisted the urge to mop her eyes with something.

At the end of the vows, the magistrate intoned, "Your wedding ring is a symbol of your promise to one another. The ring, an unbroken, never ending circle, is a symbol of committed, unending love. Jean-Luc, as you place this ring on Deanna‘s finger, repeat these words after me: This ring symbolizes my love for you and the commitments we made today."

A moment as Jean-Luc obeyed -- he sounded better now, confident once more.

"Deanna, as you place this ring on Jean-Luc‘s finger, repeat these words after me: This ring symbolizes my love for you and the commitments we made today."

Beverly dared to look -- but all she saw was the back of Deanna's head, as Jean-Luc had bowed his head and most of his face was obscured by black curls. It was a bad angle.

"Jean-Luc and Deanna, you have come here today of your own free will and in the presence of family and friends, have declared your love and commitment to each other. You have given and received a ring as a symbol of your promises. By the power of your love and commitment to each other, and by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now share your first kiss as husband and wife."

There was a moment -- both of them froze, unmoving. But then Jean-Luc moved first, taking a step, and Deanna reached for him and then they were melded together in a passionate kiss that Beverly had never expected to see -- his arms were holding her as if he never wanted to let go. They lingered for a moment, and then Geordi let out a yell -- Tom joined him, and Will, then Worf threw up his arms and added a roar. Beverly started to cheer, belatedly, and the rest of those present were standing and applauding and adding to the melee.

It finally all died down, after the kiss ended -- Jean-Luc was smiling sheepishly as he surveyed the cheering audience, and happened to catch Beverly's eye. She clapped and cried and lunged forward, trying to put her arms around both of them at once. Deanna turned and hugged her, and it started again -- clapping and some scattered cheering, as the wedding party started hugging each other, caught up in the emotion of the moment. Except Worf, who was covered in points and settling for handshakes.

The magistrate might have had something else to say, but he stepped away from the dais and acceded to the consensus. His part had ended and the wedding had a momentum all its own. He brought his padd around, and Beverly realized he needed the retinal scans -- the legal contract portion of the wedding needed completion, with two witnesses, so she stepped forward without being asked, as did Will, who she noticed had red-rimmed eyes and a goofy grin.

The speakers came to life again. "So now if you would all rise," Tom said, as he started to strum his guitar again, "pick up your chair and move it off the dance floor, we can get the party started -- bar opens in a minute, and we'll be with you after the wedding party is recorded for posterity."

"I think we know what Tom's second career will be," Deanna commented as she stepped back out of hugging Data.

"Are you going to throw the bouquet, Deanna?" Data asked.

Deanna smiled at Beverly, as she took the flowers back from her. "Usually that happens during the reception -- I still need to use it for a bit. If you could finish with some formal poses, with the imager?"

"You've been married for five minutes -- how does it feel, Mr. Troi?" Will asked.

Jean-Luc slowly turned around to give Will that grumpy look of disapproval that Captain Picard reserved for omnipotent entities and Lwaxana Troi. Geordi laughed first, and Will followed. Deanna laughed with them and pushed Jean-Luc's arm playfully. The grumpiness dissolved as he turned back to his bride, and started to laugh too. 

Beverly laughed when Data got the shot. There were going to be some excellent images to share with their kids.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shakespeare's sonnet #116 is a common enough one.  
> The other poem is Pablo Neruda, “One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII” translated by Mark Eisner. 
> 
> I worked hard on this one, and I may tweak it a little more.


	12. Chapter 12

"Well, that was intense," Tom said into the silence. He received bleary looks in response. Shrugging, he shifted his guitar on his knee and continued playing softly.

They were all lounging around one of the larger tables at the periphery of the dance floor, on the grass outside the pavilion. Suit jackets had been taken off, and were covering the backs of chairs. Most of the guests had departed. The bar was still open but the place was largely deserted, save for the current and former senior staff of the  _Enterprise_ , and Tom. The sun was starting to set, staining the sky yellow and scarlet.

Bell had never seen such an epic wedding. And, she'd certainly seen some weddings -- three sisters and a brother, and her mother twice, and then once in Starfleet she'd been in several wedding parties, and a guest at more. Tom might have the best calluses in the galaxy -- he'd been playing that guitar off and on between dancing like a crazy man, mostly with Beverly but also with her, and Deanna, and the Romulan women, and the admiral once -- hilarious how little joy that brought the fleet admiral, who'd been stiff as a brick throughout. The woman, Malia, mother of the ring bear, led everyone in a huge circle dance, teaching them very simple steps. Everyone laughed, talked, ate, drank, danced and got along well, once it was established that the Romulans were friendly and had brought with them their own homegrown and legal in the Federation version of Romulan Ale. Apparently the man, Narviat, had started to make it on Betazed. 

As the party drew to a close, the bride and groom had vanished. Now they were all waiting -- Will slouched in a chair, his long legs stretched out before him. Worf sat upright at the end of the table with a large metal cup in front of him, listing slightly to the right. Geordi was leaning forward with his elbows propping up his head as if he needed analgesic, and as Bell reached down to take off her heels, Beverly returned from the office with a medkit, and opened it on the table in a spot not taken by someone trying not to fall on the ground. 

"How awake does everyone want to be? I can detox, or I can stimulate and detox -- we have the drugs," she announced. She'd obviously taken one already herself as she sounded less giddy and more normal. Her hair had tumbled out of the style she'd had it in for the ceremony while she danced, and she'd spilled something on her dress, but seemed otherwise fine. 

"Both," Geordi said at once faintly. 

There was a silence as she started to dispense. Geordi stretched as she moved on to the next person, and then everyone started coming back to life. Worf stood up, looked around, and said, "I have been assigned a small house. I believe I would like to change. Would there be any plans for further celebration, and if so, where will that take place?"

"I don't know," Beverly said. "But I think if there's anything it will be back at the house."

"Do we want to wait for a while before we go back to the house?" Geordi asked. 

A brief silence ensued. Tom chuckled quietly. It was obvious what they were all thinking. 

As Beverly gave Bell the last dose, restoring her to feeling like she could walk and talk again, Data returned. The android had thoroughly documented the wedding from beginning to end, played with the ensemble for the first hour of the reception, danced with people, and at the last hurried off to deal with a complaint relayed to him by resort staff that his dog had escaped his rental. Evidently peace had been restored. He studied the remaining attendees with a smile.

"I have a message from the captain."

"You do?" Tom stopped playing, spinning about to face the android.

"He would like you to join him in the resort's holo-theater. Deanna has reconsidered Bell's request for a demonstration of the dance of the moons. As it requires many skilled dancers, she had me return to the  _Enterprise_ for the program she uses to practice for the Festival of the Moons." Data held up an isolinear module. "The captain also requested that I inform you that she will be dancing while wearing only... bells."

Worf straightened up at the news. "I will see you all tomorrow for breakfast." He turned and marched away, ostensibly in the direction of the rental he'd been provided. 

Will laughed at the sudden departure, but stood up and stretched, sobering again. "Part of me thinks I should go to bed, but curiosity killed the captain. I've been to festivals on Betazed. Never seen her dance in them, though I know she did once or twice, before she left for Starfleet."

"Yeah, we should warn them those festivals can be pretty intense," Tom said. "Unless it's the tourist version."

"What other version could they do on a holodeck?" Will replied. "You want to go?" He looked down at Bell with an affectionate smile.

"Wouldn't miss it. I feel much better, thank you Beverly." Bell put her shoe back on and stood up, taking Will's hand. 

"I'm not sure anything could top the wedding, or the reception," Beverly said. She smiled and thought about something she obviously felt really good about. "I don't think I could have predicted any of this."

Bell started to feel left out again, but just a little. She could see in their faces that all of them understood what Beverly was saying. But the time she'd spent with them this week had gone a long way to helping her see just why Will was so involved with his former shipmates. 

Geordi nodded, pushed himself up from the chair and pointed roughly northwest. "I think the holo-theater is over near the office."

The group strolled along toward the destination on the cobbled paths, away from the pavilion. Lights along the pathways were flickering on, just enough that the stones were illuminated without interfering with the moonlight or the starlight. "I think we'll have to come back some time, just the two of us," Bell said, as she walked with Will's arm around her. Ahead of them Tom put his arm around Beverly -- the doctor moved her shoulder, as if she had to get used to the sensation, then walked a little closer to him, until the guitar slung across his back bumped her hip.

"What did you think of the wedding, Geordi?" Data asked. He was walking behind them with the engineer.

"I think if I ever have a wedding, the bar is set pretty damn high."

"Indeed. I offered to help them plan the ceremony and reception, but Deanna informed me that they wished to plan it themselves. They also wrote their vows, as they do not correlate with any of the Terran or Betazoid traditional templates."

"I thought they sounded like them," Bell murmured. 

"Really?" Will replied.

"Well, they do seem focused on helping foster personal growth -- my last commanding officer had regular meetings with crew members for that reason. And she's a counselor, isn't that what she's all about? So it makes sense that would be part of their vows." Bell had had an opportunity to chat with the ensign who had become a last-minute bridesmaid. Natalia had evidently been a regular visitor to the ready room, and seemed oblivious to the fact that she was unique. Deanna had later told Bell, when asked, that Jean-Luc had taken an interest in nurturing the ensign's career, that while he would meet with crew upon request he typically didn't make a habit of inviting them in unless he had something specific to address.

The walk took them through scattered trees, across an open moonlit field, and they reached the multi-story building that housed the resort office, as well as the holo-theater. A large door was standing open and they found Jean-Luc standing just inside, the yellow-on-black grid playing tricks on Bell's eyes. He glanced at them, looking up from the console, and smiled -- clearly he'd availed himself of the same medications as they had, likely back at the house.

"Hello again, my friends," he said with the light tone he'd had all afternoon. He had laughed and drank and been loud, just as they all had -- alcohol and the fact that the admiral had departed fairly early had helped, Bell thought. He had changed out of the suit into a pair of form-fitting pants and a simple white short-sleeved shirt. 

"Here is the program," Data said, coming forward past the rest of the group and passing him the module. "Have you seen her perform?"

Jean-Luc gave him a look that Bell interpreted as confirmation, and surprise that he would bother to ask the question. He inserted the module. "Computer, load program T-4."

The setting that materialized was Betazed, Bell knew, but not a location she had been to -- her visit was long ago and short, to one of the cities. This was a huge flat lawn, an open area with poles at regular intervals, shimmering flags of many colors on the tops of them. There were lines dangling from the tops to the ground, usually the contrasting color to the flag on each pole. Trees bordered the area -- tall ones, reminiscent of pines. The sun hung on the horizon, turning the sky vivid colors -- yellows, oranges and reds. It was on pause, as nothing moved. No people were in the simulation yet other than their group. They were standing on the edge of the meadow on a small hill, giving them a good view of the area.

"There. All we need is a dancer," Jean-Luc said, turning to look out the door. "Would you like some chairs? There are two segments, the first is the dance where all participate, the second is usually three pairs of dancers depicting the movement of the moons."

"My feet could use some rest," Geordi said. So a row of chairs were requested, and Geordi sat in the first one. Data joined him. Will and Bell took the next two, and Beverly sat next to Bell. Tom took the guitar off and sat down next to her, planting the end of the instrument on the ground and letting it lean against the side of the chair. That left no chairs for Jean-Luc.

"Are you going to dance as well, Captain?" Data asked.

He didn't answer -- he stood in front of the console facing them, arms crossed, smiling as if he had a good secret to keep.

"I think you would do anything if she asked you to," Bell said. 

Again, there was that subtle response from Will, sometimes Geordi or Beverly, that she saw, each time she commented about him -- a bit surprised, and tense, as if anticipating a negative reaction. Bell knew he was a private man, that had been said several times by several of them. She knew he could be stiff and unresponsive, if someone pushed too far with teasing. But Will had also said that on this occasion, Jean-Luc was being genial, relaxed, and Beverly had also said that he could be in rare instances more revealing than usual. 

Jean-Luc looked directly at her, still smiling. "I expect there will be times that I have to disappoint her. But this is one occasion where indulgence and happiness is called for, don't you think?"

"He sounds like Captain Picard in diction, but I wonder if this is one of those occasions where we should be taking him to sickbay," Will teased. 

Beverly smirked. "Oh, there have been times," she intoned. "Under the influence, possessed, manipulated by circumstance -- but I think this time, we're doing just fine. It's so good to see you enjoying yourself at your own wedding."

Jean-Luc shrugged, for the thousandth time looking just a bit embarrassed. Bell glanced at faces and knew that they were all enjoying that he was happy too -- no matter what had happened, and Will had told her some incredible stories, and more had been told throughout this few days while drinks were downed and smiles and laughter abounded -- all of them loved this man in their own way. She'd found him charming at their first meeting, but reserved. He was still that, to some degree, had been less so for the past couple of days, but she thought at this point that he was more weary than anything else.

"How long does it take to put on a few bells?" Will asked. It was meant to be a tease, but Jean-Luc was apparently a good straight man.

"The ones on the nipples can be tricky," he said, with a silly grin. "The adhesive has to be the right temperature."

Geordi laughed, as did Tom, but Will took a second to follow suit. Then there was a jingling in the distance, getting progressively louder, and Deanna walked into the room, coming to a stop on Jean-Luc's right. She glanced at him, looked at the setting, and said, "Computer, close and lock the door. Run program."

She was in motion before the door closed, running down the short slope, and as the program started what appeared to be a hundred naked people wearing the same costume -- a bell on each hip, on each nipple, each wrist and ankle, long dark hair in many braids with a tiny bell on the end of each -- came into existence. Deanna halted, standing at the end of one of the lines in formation, waiting. The dancers were all still for a long time, heads held high and proud, arms held away from their bodies. All barefoot and muscular, as she was.

One hip moved -- one hip on each dancer, the left hip, swerving in a counterclock circle, the bells all sounding the same note. Then the other hip. The pace quickened and then a step forward with the right foot -- it was impressive, the melody depending on the precise timing of the dancers otherwise it would be discordant and the simple song would be chaos. The dancers went through a set choreographed series of pivots, the lines moving in opposite directions, then the group moved off the other plane, each individual moving on the vertical with a different line. Then the dancers started to use the poles, grabbing ropes and running then flying up off the ground as they swung around and touched down again, repeated the move again and again, switching directions, while the remainder of the dancers continued the coordinated movements on the ground.

While the dancers moved together, the sun finished setting, and the three moons of Betazed rose. It was a long dance. Bell knew Deanna had been tired, by the end of the reception -- she thought there must have been a stimulant before she came to the holo-theater.

Bell kept her eye on Deanna for the most part and saw that she couldn't quite be in sync with the holograms, likely because Betazoids were telepathic and this sort of thing would of course rely on that for coordinating such a ritual. When she could see Deanna's face as the dancers turned, she noticed that the bride was very happy indeed, and often moved with eyes closed. 

At the end of the dance, the lines abruptly dissolved, people running off the field into the trees, leaving three pairs behind -- and Deanna standing by herself, in the same pose, one arm raised in a graceful arc, a leg extended with point toe, leaning slightly back though not as far as the other dancers as she had no partner to brace her. 

And before anyone could comment or question, Jean-Luc was in motion, running forward in the moonlight. They'd not been watching him at all, just the spectacle in front of them, and Beverly gasped audibly. Bell clutched Will's hand and glanced at him; he exchanged a shocked look with her, and they turned back to watch the groom take up the stance that the dancers had, a hand in Deanna's back and a bent knee as he leaned with her. 

"Oh," Beverly said quietly.

"Yeah, this is something," Geordi whispered.

What followed was a slow dance, most of the work done by the women -- the partners lifted and eventually threw them into the air, and the women spun as the bells jangled and rang with the movements they made, raising and shaking their hands and feet while they danced with the men and still managed to make a melody with the movements of the different bells they wore. Jean-Luc wasn't doing anything unusually athletic, but moved with confidence to catch or spin Deanna as required by the dance. They ended with his dropping to a knee, as Deanna whirled away then spun back in the opposite direction and dropped into a split, her leading leg sliding under his and her head coming to rest against his thigh, her arm extended back. 

The holograms disappeared. He helped her to her feet after rising slowly from the ground, and they stood together for a moment. Then he swooped her up in his arms. She curled up against him and he carried her across the open grass, up the slight hill, and as he approached the door it opened for them. They disappeared into the night without a word, the faint sound of bells fading.

"I guess that's where the honeymoon starts," Bell said. "That was fantastic! You said he doesn't dance!"

Tom laughed -- it was a startling sound, after so long of listening to the bells. "He did say it just takes the right partner."

Beverly exchanged a look with Will -- Bell wondered. She had no context for all the looks and the in-jokes. But Will knew that, for once remembering that she'd been feeling left out. He turned and said, "That wasn't anything he's ever done before. We'll probably never see him do it again."

"I know," Bell said. "But Deanna said that this was really a chance for them to spend this time with friends, because it's important to them that we really know them for who they are. Not just as officers. Mission accomplished, I think."

The line of good friends looked at her, all of them, and Beverly's eyes were laughing. "Welcome to a very small, very selective club. We're glad you're here."

Bell laughed -- the good kind of laugh, spontaneous and full of joy. "Thanks."

 


	13. Chapter 13

"Penny for your thoughts."

Beverly rolled over from her side to her back and felt exposed, awkward, but only for a minute or so. The morning after the wedding, and she was not accustomed to having company in the bed. She'd awakened a bit ago, and obviously he'd already been awake, and aware that she was as well. Tom's hand came down on her bare shoulder; he had his head propped on his hand, as he reclined on his left side facing her in the bed. The touch was affectionate, intimate, and reassuring.

"I was just thinking about the wedding, of course." About the way two very private people had structured the past few days, and included them in something that had displayed for anyone who knew how to see it just how much the two of them had grown together, and how dedicated Jean-Luc had been to Deanna, that he'd endured many little embarrassments. All the people commenting on something he likely felt to be private had probably been difficult for him to bear.

"Pretty sure that's a couple who's going places, all right. Not your average joe, that guy," Tom said. "But he's okay I guess. For a tightass."

It bothered her for a minute, but she knew Tom had a habit of using humor as a smokescreen. His tone didn't sound as dismissive as his words. "Weddings are so emotional -- it reminded me of my own. It's interesting how life can change in a few moments, and things are never the same again."

"Yeah. Like the second I saw you."

That was unexpected. She turned her head, gazing up into his face. He was dead serious for once. She returned the smile. "You're not at all what I expected either."

He seemed to be thinking about something that added a sadness to his expression. "I'm probably a bad idea, actually. I'd be selfish not to warn you."

"Why do you say that?"

Tom rolled on his back and stared up at the early morning stars that were still visible in the pre-dawn sky through the skylight. The little house they'd gotten had some nice amenities. "I tend to work in Intelligence. It means I'm on missions that could kill me any second."

"How long have you been doing that?"

He laughed. "Yeah. But there's -- "

When he didn't continue she wiggled over and rested her head on his arm, putting her hand on his thigh. "There's what?"

He was hesitating, but eventually got it out. "Have you ever heard of Section 31?"

Ice ran through her at the mention. She started to breathe again after recovering somewhat from the shock. "I have. And?"

He brought his hand up to cover hers, under the covers. "I'm wishing that I had been a smarter, less oblivious kid. A lot of things would have gone differently in my life. Maybe in ways that would have kept me from being here, so I'm finding it difficult to get too tore up about it, but there's also this thought that if I tell you they blackmailed me in and aren't letting me out, that you'll run for your life, because I can't quite work up the nerve to die to be free of them."

Beverly closed her eyes. There were worse things in the galaxy to be. Right now she couldn't think of any of them.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"I guess. Sometimes I have to." She thought about Jean-Luc, and the things he'd thought about, once upon a sleepless night on Kes-Prytt. The things that they hadn't talked about, and never would. "Secrets don't always have to be the end of it all. Sometimes you can't hold on to things forever. Sometimes you just selectively step aside from them and find a way to live anyway."

"This is true. But this isn't the usual sort of mundane secret people tend to have."

"What are you doing for them now?" She did her best to be calm, as he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer against him.

"You mean right this minute, or in general? As little as possible. They expect reports. Since the mission with Deanna, a while ago, I haven't been doing anything. It might be that they noticed -- or not. Haven't heard or seen anything that says they have. Deanna asked me to help her with this project of hers, to get Starfleet back on its feet, work on building it away from the paranoia and fear, toward what it used to be. Something principled, with more exploration and openness than defensive to the exclusion of diplomacy. So I'm trying to figure out how to help her with that."

That was reassuring, but it occurred to her that it might be just the thing an agent would say. But... Deanna hadn't said a word to her about him. And she thought that despite her friend's general non-interference policy about what she sensed, Deanna really would have warned her, if she had a sense that Tom was dangerous.

Why, after all, had he been invited to the wedding? He'd stood up with the others, with Jean-Luc. Surely they wouldn't have included him if he had been untrustworthy.

She exhaled, feeling better about the past day of getting to know Tom and thinking he might be good for her.

Tom was still talking. "When I figured out that things were getting dangerous for them, I went in and warned them. Tessora approved, so there's that. She's straight up, as far as I can tell. Not Section. I haven't been scolded for the sparse reports I've filed with the Section yet. I don't intend to be detailed. I guess it's possible they have another agent watching Picard, but he's really not been much of a concern for them -- he does his job, he's a great role model for the cadets, and to this point that's all well and good. But the more they start to move against the agenda the Section has, the more of a target they might be. So I'm keeping my ear to the ground. We have a few key words worked out so I can warn them."

Beverly sat up, her hair falling in disarray over her shoulders, and looked down at Tom. He waited with a somewhat tense expression. "You're helping them? Protecting them. And they know about your affiliation with the Section?"

"If I can help, yes. They know."

"Why would you risk yourself that way?"

He smiled at that. "Why do you, and Riker, and LaForge, and Data, and Worf -- why are all of you here, smiling and dancing and encouraging him to be happy? Not a lot of former staff would, you know?"

"Because we're good friends."

"Yeah, it's a little more than that. It pulled Worf all the way here from Qo'nos. He doesn't even really fit in, doesn't dance, tolerated the reception and the hugs, but he came to stand with Jean-Luc."

"It is a little different with us than with other officers, that's true." Now that Tom mentioned it -- she'd said as much, when her friends asked her how things were going on her new ship. She was tolerating it, but it was disappointing. Not the same at all. The captain made so much difference in morale and the general atmosphere aboard any vessel, and Barregan was nothing like Jean-Luc.

"And you don't even question that. Just like Will doesn't -- he had to have a misunderstanding with Bell, before it sank in for him that she wouldn't really get it, and thought that he was still in love with Deanna. It took her a while to settle down and recognize what was really going on."

"I wish -- " She lay there, feeling the heat from him, smiling and thinking about how good he was at making her forget everything for a while, just with his tongue. "I wish there was a way."

"To?"

"What if you stopped doing Intelligence work and got an assignment exploring, or just doing the more routine work of Starfleet?"

He went still for a few minutes. "If I had myself a ship of the line instead of a secret life, would there be a chance of getting a redheaded CMO to go with it?"

She put her hand to her head in disbelief. "Tom. I'm not going to talk about this if you're just going to be cute about it. Be serious about serious things." One of the few things she hadn't liked about Jack had been his persistent habit of not being serious about anything, and this was not a topic she would discuss while letting Tom get away with his little jokes.

"If I can somehow go straight Starfleet captain -- you would be willing to join me, and see if we could have a real relationship?"

"You seem to have a good instinct about people. What do you think?"

He chuckled, and his hand drifted down to her left buttock. "I would love to prove to you that we could do it."

"So let me know when you're in need of a CMO." She thought about that, for a moment. "And you don't get to fire or kill the one you have to make it happen."

A sigh, at that. "I'm not a killer."

She didn't know what to say to that. To him. It sank in all over again that the funny, smiling man she was falling in love with -- and it was that, despite having just met him, she tended to fall fast and hard -- had just told her he belonged to a clandestine agency that she had reason to hate.

He must have felt the tension in her. "If you want to ask Deanna about me, go ahead. I have to get up." He started to move as he said it, extricating himself gently and getting out of bed. "The admiral will expect me to take her back to Earth today. As much as I would prefer to stay and vacation with all of you, she's not as nice to me as she is to Jean-Luc."

"She's nice to Jean-Luc? When did that change?"

"Yeah, exactly," he said, heading into the bathroom. The shower was short. She lay there listening to him whistle tunelessly as he finished and emerged naked to pull a uniform from the bottom of his large duffel. He put on the uniform with the automation of long, ongoing practice. 

Beverly sat up and smiled as he finally turned to look at her again, and said, "You'll call me?"

He stood there for a moment with a lopsided smile, the duffel dangling from his hand. "Should we work out a schedule? Does every night after dinner work for you?"

She grinned, came up from the bed and went to put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. 

"Yeah," he said as they parted. "Maybe every morning too?" He'd dropped the duffel and put his arms around her. 

"I've known someone before -- I know what the Section does, Tom," she murmured. "And I don't like it that you're part of it."

"Then I guess I have another job to do." His lips tickled her cheek as he spoke. "Get rid of the Section, before they get rid of me."

She knew better than to think he could possibly be serious, but smiled and clung to him for as long as he would let her. He finally backed away, contacted his ship, and smiled at her as he dematerialized.

Beverly sighed and turned to take her own shower, put on some pants and a blouse, and collect her things. Shouldering the bag, she left the house, turning on the indicator to let the resort know it was vacated, and walked across the resort to the house she'd started in, to see what was going on. 

She reached the last junction and found a young man standing in the middle of the pavement. Her heart stopped.

" _Wesley_!" She ran at him, dropping her bag, and held on to him tightly, to make sure he was real. He looked so much like his father that she shed a few tears.

"Mom," he said at last. "Hi."

She held him at arm's length and looked at him, grinning happily. "You tell me please, that you're going to stay for a while? So we can catch up and I can get to know my son again?"

"Yeah," he said quietly, with a whiff of shame.

"What's wrong?"

Wes was a man now, so he didn't have the quivering lip and the tears she had comforted away when he was a boy. But the pathos was there in his eyes. "I'm not a Traveler any more. I don't know why -- it just -- I don't know, Mom," he said, distressed. 

She didn't know what to say to that. She smoothed his hair back as she used to do when he was six, reacting automatically to his distress. Then she re-oriented herself. "We'll take care of it -- we'll figure it out together. It's so good to see you. I have a lot to tell you.... How did you find me here?"

A flutter of a smile, as he let her distract him. "I tried to contact you and Captain Barregan told me you were here. I've been working my way through Federation space on transports to get here in time."

"Okay. Did Barregan tell you why I'm here?"

Wes frowned. "He said you were on vacation?"

"I'm here for Deanna's wedding, Wes. She married Captain Picard."

That led to complete astonishment, such that he staggered backward a step as if she'd pushed him. "Whoa. Mom! Really?"

"Come to breakfast with me. Everyone else is here, Captain Riker and his girlfriend, Worf, Geordi -- they're all having breakfast and I'm on my way to join them."

When they reached the house five minutes later, she launched him into the room, and let everyone there greet him, slipping past to stow her bag in her room again. Will, Bell, Geordi and Data were the only ones present. She returned to the front of the house and got some coffee from the replicator, hovering in the vicinity of the dining table with the coffee cups while the initial joy of her son re-entering the family continued. Bell came over with her own cup. 

"I remember your mention of a son, but he's not what I expected," she said.

"He's older than you expected," Beverly said. "I know. He's been traveling and I haven't seen him in more than a year, so it's a surprise to me too."

"Where's Tom?"

Beverly tried to keep her smile steady. "Had to take the fleet admiral home. I didn't expect him either."

"The vacation was worth it, then," Bell said, her eyes twinkling. "I know I've enjoyed it. I feel much better about things with Will."

"So where are the bride and groom?" Wes exclaimed, turning about and looking at everyone expectantly.

"There's generally a honeymoon after a wedding," Will said. "Did you think they'd take us all with them?"

"Naw, guess not," he said, sounding like his teenaged self again. 

"Get yourself some breakfast," Geordi said, returning to his seat at the dining room table. 

"Worf will be here any time," Will said. "He said he would eat before coming over. We'll set up a poker game out next to the pool."

"I am editing the images that I obtained at the wedding and the reception into a presentation," Data said. "If anyone would care to assist me in selecting the best ones for the project."

"Bell and I would be happy to help," Beverly said. She hadn't worked with Data in a long time.

Will came toward the replicator while the others returned to their chairs and Wes sat down next to Geordi, who asked him how far he'd traveled on his journeys. Will leaned toward Beverly, shoulder to shoulder. "Everything ok with Tom?"

"He had to take the admiral back to Earth. Yes, everything is fine."

"Good." He grinned wickedly. "He really brings it out of you. Must be some real fireworks there."

Beverly shoved him away, turning to the replicator again. "You hush, William Thomas."

As she fetched a bowl of cereal garnished with fruit, she listened to Wes and Geordi chatting about warp engines and smiled. It was good to be home again.


	14. Chapter 14

The bungalow was filled with light and they'd left all the windows open, so Deanna woke to a lovely breeze carrying the perfume of the blossoming tree outside. She laughed as she sat up and put her feet on the floor. The carpeting was plush and soft against her bare feet.

"Something amusing?" Jean-Luc came in from the other room, carrying a cup. He wore a long gray robe, tied shut. 

Deanna thought she might have had the same affectionate smile for the past three days running, likely in her sleep as well. "I'm still happy. Joy, soaked in happy, with rainbows on top."

His pleased smile was amusing all by itself. He came to sit next to her in the rumpled covers, running his hand over his head as if to smooth down his hair. She reached up to run a finger around the tattoo at the base of his skull, peeking out from under the neatly-trimmed gray hair. 

"It's been the best vacation of my life," he said. "I have never been happier than this."

That was not hyperbole, she thought. She had been with him through thick and thin for years, and he'd told her before, in sessions, that his experiences as a young man had included the sorts of happiness that were transient, that he'd experienced something completely different with the probe, on Kataan, and that he never expected to have that sort of contentment again, that he'd attained in later years with Eline. But he'd also said that the happiness was overshadowed by awareness of the short life span of the planet. It was bittersweet, for that reason and also because the entire experience was an illusion, a dream of a life he hadn't really lived. 

"Neither have I," she said, cocking her head and giving him the coy, come-hither look that usually invited a kiss.

He touched her hair, letting his fingers play through her curls. Thinking about something else now. "Did you decide?"

The only decision left open-ended was the matter of whether or not they would have a child right away. The plans for the wedding and immediately after were all implemented, the plan for their future aboard the  _Enterprise_ was as resolved as it could be for now. The matters of property on Earth and on Betazed would be settled out over the next few months. 

"I decided to stop the birth control and let it happen if it will. Dr. Mengis said that we shouldn't have a problem with natural conception."

That resulted in more happy, and a kiss -- he embraced her as fervently as he had during the wedding, and it took the quiet complaint of her stomach to disrupt it. He went with her to the other room, to sit at the table for two and eat something for lunch. 

"It feels so sinfully wonderful to have literally nothing to do for a while," she said. "Napping whenever we want, not having to talk to anyone."

"We'll have to do this more often."

She chuckled to herself, thinking about the wheedling and coercing it had taken to get him to go anywhere and take time off.

"Yes, you were right," he said, accepting her amusement. "But it was less lonely to be on duty and busy. Counselor."

"The others are all waiting for us."

"You can sense them from here?" They'd beamed half a continent away, to a resort that specialized in remote and solitary accommodations. The two-room bungalow was well appointed but guests had to be transported in. It had a view of an ocean, from a platform on the side of a mountain; there was a trail that wandered up through the trees to a peak top, and an excellent view from the balcony outside the bedroom.

"All of them, plus one."

"Oh?" They knew that Narviat and his wife and sister-in-law had returned to Betazed. The  _Enterprise_ crew had gone on their own leave, dispersing across Casperia to whatever activities suited their whimsy. They'd expected the  _Lexington_ might go its way but apparently not.

Deanna smiled at him. "Wesley is here."

Jean-Luc dropped his fork on his plate, and after a stunned, wide-eyed moment, he smiled. "Really? Better late than never?"

"Do you want to go back today, or wait until the morning?" They had the option -- the original plan was to return to the resort the following morning.

"What a choice. Stay here with my naked happy wife, or visit with the boy I haven't seen in several years."

"I hardly think he's a boy any longer," Deanna pointed out, eating another bite of salad. "Your wife will still be happy regardless, and though I suspect showing up naked would be disruptive I can take off my clothes again later."

"Hmm," he responded with a wily grin, eyeing her breasts. "Such difficult choices."

"I'll go take a shower. You can make up your mind while I brush out my hair after."

After the shower, she came out of the small bathroom to find he had started to pack the single bag they'd brought. So she sat on the balcony brushing her hair out, enjoying the sun on her skin and the smell and sound of the ocean far below. She was braiding and clipping her hair up when he joined her, wearing one of the plain white shirts that exposed his chest and a pair of brown pants. He had simple tastes in clothing, preferring functional over style, but was willing to dress to appeal to her. Which was pragmatic enough, she supposed, for someone who viewed a marriage as both relationship and obligation. He stood at the railing looking down with a pleased smile. His enjoyment of their time together and the degree to which he had been able to relax and not ruminate about anything had been one of the more pleasing outcomes.

"You've been a little concerned, now and again," she said. 

"I've avoided thinking about the ship or the future, as we agreed, but Tom and Beverly have taken an interest in each other and it concerns me."

Deanna hummed quietly, running the brush through her hair slowly. He turned to look at her, expectant.

"It's not our business," she said.

"You surprise me. She should know what he is before it goes too far."

"How do you know he hasn't already told her? He's smart, he knows she and I talk. If he wants any sort of relationship with her, he knows he should tell her and if he does not I will kick his ass."

Jean-Luc's expression was priceless. He leaned against the railing and bowed his head, smirking.

"You're doubting my assessment?"

"You are assuming that he wants a relationship with her?"

"I'm not assuming. He asked me if I had any concerns about the two of them together, and I told him I would refrain from comment, but he knew what he had to do."

"I thought it was none of our business."

"Unless one of them makes it our business, still true." Deanna put a band on the end of the braid, and started to coil it on the back of her head, awkwardly, holding pins in her mouth. Unexpectedly he moved behind the chair and finished winding the braid, holding it for her while she pinned it. "Thank you."

"I'm going to ask her if he told her."

"Go ahead. She'll tell you it's none of your business, and possibly kick your ass. Beverly doesn't need relationship advice from you. She'll know, if he tries to hide anything from her. Trust me, she can tell."

"All right," he said, with the tone that said he was giving in, but not agreeing with her. He had strong feelings about the Section, but also about his friends.

"Did you question her when she fell for Odan, when you were so concerned about it?" She knew he had not. Beverly would have fumed about it. She doubted that he and Beverly had ever even discussed it at all. He'd never brought it up in counseling, either, it was something she had sensed from him while the ambassador had been talking to Beverly at the reception.

She could almost hear the click, when it connected. Ass kicked. 

"Is that what you intend to wear?"

"I have a pantsuit in the bag." She took the brush and went past him, into the bedroom. He followed and watched her get out a bra and panties.

"Am I ever going to win an argument again?" He was amused at himself for trying.

"Maybe, with practice. Have you ever won an argument with me before?"

He sighed. "Only if pulling rank counts."

"It's going to be an interesting marriage, isn't it?"

"I certainly hope so," he said, the amusement coloring his voice, along with the affection.

 


	15. Chapter 15

Will brought in the case of chips and cards from the table out by the pool, and put it in his room on the way to the living room. Everyone was settling on the couch to view the presentation projected on the wall. Data was setting up the projector on the floor. 

"I wish I could've gotten here sooner," Wes said. He sat between Worf and his mother facing the inside wall, waiting for the show to begin. 

"We're just glad to have you here," Beverly said.

"Too bad Tom couldn't stick around," Bell said without thinking, immediately realizing her mistake when Beverly turned and glared at her.

"Who?"

"Captain Glendenning is a friend of Captain Picard's," Will put in, bringing a bowl of snacks with him and sitting down with an arm around Bell. 

"I believe we are ready to roll," Data announced, rising from his knees and hurrying to sit with Geordi on Worf's left. He raised the remote and the holographic projector came on, displaying the names of the bride and groom and the date they were married.

"That doesn't look right," Geordi said. "I don't think the captain changed his name to Troi."

"I will correct the misspelling later," Data said.

The first images were of the men, in suits, standing at the dais. Will glanced around the room. Everyone was smiling, but Wes was grinning and wide-eyed. When the next set of the bride and the bridesmaids came up, one of them featured Beverly and Tom. Wes raised his eyebrows and gaped. "Uh, Mom?"

The picture made it pretty obvious how they felt about each other; Data had caught them smiling at each other. 

"I think he's Mom's friend too," Wes said, grinning at his mother, who was blushing and trying to laugh.

"Yeah, next image Data," Bell said, giggling.

It was pretty clear by the time they got to the end of the ceremony and the first images of people dancing that Beverly had been spending most of her time with Tom. The series of images was thorough. Data had memorialized the ring bear holding up his claws and growling at Jean-Luc, everyone cheering and hugging after the ceremony, everyone toasting with champagne, and then there were many images with one or both of the happy couple with various guests.

"I think they've been making a few friends since I've been gone. Where did the Romulans come from?" Wes asked.

"You don't have clearance, sorry," Will said. "But those are citizens of the Federation."

"And the kids," Wes exclaimed, pointing. The current image was one of Jean-Luc, from behind, standing next to the flower girl. They were looking at each other and Lindy was holding up a rose as if he were inspecting it. Jean-Luc was not at all perturbed, and Lindy was grinning.

"Lindy's cute. His biggest fan," Bell said.

The images were many, but the memorable ones were worth wading through the random candid shots for. Deanna flinging her bouquet high in the air, while a ten-year-old Sarah Carlisle leaped up alongside Natalia Greenman to attempt a catch, while the older women were standing well back from the action. Tom and Deanna dancing, the camera catching them at the height of a leap -- they'd been waltzing and Tom must have said something silly, and Deanna started kicking at him while he started leaping around backward trying to avoid being kicked, all the while maintaining the hand-holding stance of the waltz.

It was obvious when Data handed off the camera. Images of the ensemble with him in attendance started to appear. There was one that they all laughed at, of Data trying to dance with Lindy -- he had obviously zigged when the little girl zagged, she was leaping with outstretched arms in one direction and he was facing the other direction and trying to come around with her.

"This looks like it was a great party, I wish I'd been there. It doesn't look nearly as stuffy and boring as I'd thought it might be," Wes said.

"Thank you, Mr. Crusher."

Wes levitated off the couch at the sound of Jean-Luc's voice. Will grinned, watched him go through the stages of shock, awe, embarrassment, and then he jogged around through the break in the circular couch to try to shake hands with the captain. But Jean-Luc shocked him by hugging him.

"Hi," Wes said awkwardly afterward. "Sorry it's been so long."

"Come sit, we're looking at some of the reception shots," Bell said.

"No need, I was there," Jean-Luc said. "Come on, Wes." 

The young man followed him down the hall, and they heard the back door slide open and shut. Minutes later, Deanna came in and dropped a bag on the floor just inside the door. "Hello everyone. I hope you're enjoying the resort?"

"Indeed we are," Will said. "How are you, Mrs. Picard?"

Deanna still radiated that happy glow, undeterred by slyness and winking. She wore a deep blue pantsuit today. "Doing very well, thank you. I see we're already reviewing the holo-images from the wedding."

Bell patted the couch cushion next to her. "Come on down."

She did so, and glanced around at everyone, her attention caught by Worf. "I wish you had been able to come earlier, Worf. Did you enjoy the wedding?"

"I did. You were a beautiful bride, Deanna." 

"I was so sorry to hear about your wife," Deanna said. 

Will was startled and dismayed by her calling that out, but Worf didn't react overmuch to it. "She is in Sto'vo'kor."

"I've been teaching mok'bara."

Worf smiled approvingly. "So you went on to black belt."

"How is Alexander? I was so disappointed he couldn't come."

Bell gave Will a puzzled look. "His son," Will said. "He was on the  _Enterprise_."

"Alexander is doing well. After the war he continued to serve on the _Rotarran_."

Jean-Luc returned with Wesley. He surveyed the circular couch, and went to sit on the section with the most space, the one Worf occupied. "So who told Kenny to growl at me?"

"That was Tom," Beverly said. "Kenny already had it in his head because Lindy kept calling him the ring bear."

Wes went to sit with his mother again. When he looked up the image was one of Will and Bell dancing. "I kinda get the impression there was a lot of dancing."

"Oh, you could say that," Will said, grinning at Jean-Luc.

"Too much dancing, not enough stuffy and boring," Jean-Luc said.

"Um...." Wes proved he could blush as well as his mother. 

"If only you'd been here," Beverly said. "Even Worf was dancing."

"After a lot of encouragement." Deanna smiled at the Klingon.

The image flicked to one of the bride and groom. It was a brilliant shot -- Will remembered the song they were dancing to, and how Jean-Luc had spun her around under his arm. The still shot recorded her mid-spin, the skirt flaring around her knees as she rose on her toes, her arm raised over her head, their fingers meshed. They were smiling at each other, their expressions of joy only for each other. He had been caught as he stepped forward, following her as she spiraled away from him.

"I like that one," Jean-Luc said, as if it were a mildly-interesting artifact. "Would you say that's stuffy or boring?"

"Boring," Deanna said. "Dreadful."

Wes groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"

"I think Data needs a new title. Ship's photographer," Geordi said. "These are really great."

"I agree," Will said. 

They didn't make it to the end. Jean-Luc called a halt himself -- asked for a reprieve, and to reconvene later in the day. He and Worf went outside at his request. Beverly and Bell went to the replicator. Deanna went to her room. Will glanced at Wes, sitting there thinking and staring at the floor as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Are you coming back to Starfleet, Wes?"

Wes' hazel eyes were troubled. "I don't know. The captain asked me the same thing -- well, he asked what I wanted to do, but -- I don't really know what to think. I guess I'm still in shock. I was on this planet in the Gamma Quadrant, and when I wanted to leave I just... couldn't. I don't understand what happened. I remember how to travel, like the Traveler showed me. I just couldn't do it any more. So I was stuck there for a month, until a vessel from the Alpha Quadrant came by and I was able to convince the captain I was a Federation citizen. It took a few months to get back through the wormhole. I found a transport at Deep Space Nine and I worked my way here from there."

"So, nothing changed, you just lost it?" Geordi asked.

"Poof, just like that. Gone. I didn't get hurt, or irradiated, or anything like that. One minute I could, the next it was gone. Anyway, I'm thinking I'll spend some time with Mom, until I figure it out. I asked the captain if I could come back to the  _Enterprise_ at least to visit for a while. I missed everyone."

Will smiled at the young man who had been a boy he'd mentored, once upon a time. "You're welcome to come see me on the  _Lexington_ as well."

Wes smiled. "Thanks, Com -- Captain Riker."

"Something tells me you'll figure it out fine," Will said. "Just give it time. Everything works out if you give it time."


	16. Chapter 16

Beverly went outside, wearing a robe over a bikini and carrying a towel. Bell and Deanna were already in the pool, and Will sat at the table beneath the umbrella drinking something. Jean-Luc was not in evidence.

The party was dissolving. After a long heart-to-heart with Jean-Luc, Worf had departed, beaming back to the warbird he'd come to Casperia in. Wes and Geordi had gone up to the  _Enterprise_ , for a tour -- Wes hadn't been on the 1701-E yet. 

There was one more day left in the vacation. 

Deanna surfaced as Beverly dropped robe and towel in a chair and started to walk down into the water. "You don't need the suit, you know," she said with a wily, dare-you smile. Her hair was wet and smoothed back from her face. 

Beverly glanced at Bell -- sure enough, she wore no suit either. She grinned up at her from where she was treading water in the deep end. Beverly shrugged and took off the suit, dropping the bottoms and untying the top to let them fall to the pavement. 

They were swimming laps back and forth when Jean-Luc arrived and sat with Will. Beverly did her best to ignore the two men and swam as if she didn't feel nervous, tread water with the others for a few minutes.

"You have the best taste in venues," she told Deanna. "I have to come back here some day. Maybe they need a doctor to tend sprained ankles and random issues at the resort?"

"Surely they have fewer injuries than starships," Bell said. 

Deanna dipped below the surface briefly, and when she came up again she opened her eyes, gazed at Beverly solemnly, and waited. Drops of water glistened on her eyelashes.

"I'll be in Starfleet for a while yet, though. Maybe when I retire." Beverly smiled at Bell. "I guess you'll be on the _Lexington_ for a while?"

"So what happened with Tom?" Bell asked.

Beverly flinched internally. Of course there would be the question. Deanna's expression suggested she was dismayed on Beverly's behalf. Beverly smiled and turned to their new friend. "He had to take the admiral back to Earth. He said he would call me."

Bell blinked, glanced at the house, and said, "I'll be back in a bit." She paddled over, found her feet, walked up the steps out of the pool, picked up a towel from one of the chairs and wrapped herself in it on the way inside.

"When is he supposed to call you?" Deanna asked softly.

"Every night."

Deanna almost laughed. She pressed her lips together and shook her head slowly. "You do fall fast and hard. I hope all goes well."

"Do you trust him?"

Her friend turned wide, dark eyes on her. "Why does my feeling about him matter?"

"Because when Section 31 is involved, everyone's does."

Deanna floated backward, until she sat on one of the submerged steps, still submerged up to her chin. Beverly joined her and waited for a response.

"He told you he was Section 31?"

"He said that he was blackmailed into joining. Which is likely how everyone joins, at first, being lied to about the nature of the mission, or told they'll suffer some consequence that's intolerable, because why would anyone unless they were blackmailed?"

Concern in Deanna's face, at that. "I think that you have some past experience with the Section?"

"I have. I'd rather not talk about it."

"People tend not to, as I understand." Deanna was watching Jean-Luc talk to Will, over in the shade of the umbrella. "Tom was supposed to recruit me, he said. He saved our lives instead."

"Good.... You know, I think it's premature to predict anything. But I have a really good feeling about this one."

Beverly was concerned for a few seconds, as Deanna's intense gaze gave her no hints. But her friend began to smile. "I think we both have a brilliant future ahead of us."

"I'd toast that, if we had some wine," Beverly replied.

Deanna stood up, water streaming from her body. "I think I will get us some wine."

While Deanna walked into the house, Beverly leaned back, spreading her arms along the edge of the pool, and looked up at the sky. She watched a flock of white birds flying in a spiral above, then scatter. Not a cloud in the sky. 

Life was good.


	17. Chapter 17

Deanna stood back to examine the end result of her efforts. The frame seemed straight and centered on the wall above the sofa. It was larger than she'd expected, taking up most of the visible wall, but it fit. 

Jean-Luc came in as she leaned on a knee in a cushion to press the tab along the bottom edge. He'd gone to the bridge, given the order to be under way after determining the crew was retrieved from leave, and come back -- it was the first time seeing him in uniform since they'd beamed down to Casperia a week ago. She stood looking at him with a fond smile. They were lost in each other's eyes for a moment. 

Then movement drew their attention to the frame. The image of them, standing with their friends in front of the dais with the magistrate, was the first one in the sequence. 

Jean-Luc moved over and put his arm around her, and they watched image after image. "Where did this come from?"

"Beverly had it delivered to the ship, after she and Data loaded it with the images he took. She felt it was a fitting gift -- a way for us to begin collecting and displaying the happy moments, she said."

He chuckled at that. "I'll have to thank her for it. It's perfect."

"Maybe some day we'll have everyone together again, and spend another vacation with them -- I truly enjoyed every minute," Deanna said, resting her head on his shoulder. 

"Good. Then the operation was a success. Making you happy was my only real goal."

She laughed at it, and put an arm around his waist. "Really?"

"Of course. Happy wife, happy life."

They watched the images play, and enjoyed the memories while they were still fresh. She expected there would be others joining these in the future, and hoped that they would need to upgrade the memory on the frame.

"Almost everything was perfect," he said, as the frame displayed a picture of Beverly and Tom standing with Will and Bell, all of them holding champagne flutes and laughing.

"No, it was all perfect. They're all doing as well as they can, and everyone had a wonderful time. And I appreciated so much that you pushed yourself, and enjoyed doing all those things you thought you wouldn't. Everyone was happy for us, even the fleet admiral."

He sighed heavily, and glanced up. The _Enterprise_ had gone to warp. "And Wesley is back, from wherever he was."

"And Tom did tell Beverly, by the way."

"And what did she decide?"

"Apparently subspace channels will be busy for a while, between them."

Disbelief, at that. He tightened his arm around her.

"She evidently knew someone who was Section 31 before. She understands more about them than I did."

That set off another wave of concern, likely as he thought about the past, and wondered whether it was a mutual friend of theirs. But after a few minutes he settled into a disgruntled acceptance of it. "That's what makes Section 31 so reprehensible, really," he said. "It isn't as though they are all monstrous psychopaths. It's that ordinary people are drafted into breaking regulations or violating their own ethics."

"Sometimes without being aware that they are being manipulated. But, one mission at a time, one problem at a time," she said. "Are you due on the bridge again? or can we spend our first afternoon back settling in?"

"We're on our way to Derban Four. ETA is two days from now. So until my next appointment with a cadet early tomorrow morning, you may do with me as you please."

"It would please me to finish unpacking. And to see the rest of these images, and send a few of them to Mother."

"As you wish, Mrs. Picard."


End file.
